Every Day is Exactly the Same
by Pirate Gyrl
Summary: One year after the shootout with the Fraternity, impossible killings begin again. Is it Wesley, or another member of the Fraternity he missed? Rating may change later.
1. Prologue

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Prologue**

"It's a bloodbath in here," the officer said as he stepped his way over the rubble of the building. He was taking care not to step on anything. Evie thought he was actually just new to the job and still squeamish. "It's the worst thing we've seen all year."

She barely looked at the man. Her focus was more on the chaos that surrounded her. It seemed as if the entire building would fall any minute. Beams had been splintered by the explosions. Bullet holes littered every wall. Dried blood spatter coated almost every surface of the room. It was as if an entire army had descended on one building and destroyed every living being there.

"Forensics found pieces of rats scattered on all of the floors. They have no idea how that happened," he babbled. "There's more upstairs though. The stairs were destroyed in whatever went down here so you'll have to climb the ladder."

Evie's attention turned to the dusty floor under her booted feet. A boot print caught her attention, next to another print that was slightly slurred. "Has forensics looked at this yet?" she asked, kneeling down to study it closer.

The officer scratched his head. "I don't know. I'll get them on it as soon as I take you up to the others."

Evie nodded and then stood up. She followed the officer across the floor, watching as people from the coroner's office zipped up anonymous black bags. There were so many bags to carry out. She had a feeling the officer was right; this was the worst crime of the year.

"The only thing that we know is that whoever did this came in through that back window," the officer said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the broken window. "All of the glass is shattered in."

"And all of the bullets in the victims?"

"Preliminary reports show that the bullets are from different guns. Forensics will go over them once the M.E. does the autopsies."

Evie merely nodded again.

"They're collecting all of the weapons. We're hoping that we'll be able to get some clear fingerprints for the murderer. Maybe the victims too. Coroner's having to rig up something to be able to get the vics from the top floor."

"There's more up there?" Evie asked distractedly.

"Oh yeah. Ten to fifteen more. The Captain's gonna have to tell you what we think went on there."

It didn't make sense. At least not to Evie. Not yet. For all intents and purposes this was just a mill. Pieces of the looms were scattered everywhere. From what she'd been told when she was handed the case most of the victims had been killed with a single bullet to the head. Execution style. Easiest way to ensure a simple killing. And yet the victims had only seemed to be plain weavers.

The officer led her through the rest of the destroyed ground floor to a ladder that had been placed against the top floor railing, what was left of it at least. From the ladder he led her through a room that could only be described as part of a meat packing plant. Now why would this be in a mill? And from there to a large library, book pages strewn across the floor. There were bodies still on the floor here, some bagged, some not.

Evie paused at one of the bodies that hadn't been bagged. The glassy eyes stared back up at her through a rivulet of blood from the wound on his forehead. She tilted his head slightly to study the wound on the other side of his forehead. "Clean shot," she muttered.

"Agent Thomas?"

Evie turned away from the body at her feet and stood up. A portly man stood in front of her, his short, graying hair unkempt as if he had been running his hands through it continuously. "Captain Evans?"

"I was told you'd be coming by," Evans replied, sticking his hand out to her.

Evie pulled the glove from her hand and shook his. "What do we have so far?"

"Multiple victims as you've seen. Right now we're assuming, hoping I guess, that we're looking for multiple suspects as well. Can't really fathom that one person could have killed all these people. We've got forensics going over this entire building. The shell casings, discarded weapons, hell, even the rat pieces."

"Any incendiary devices?" Evie asked, her eyes gazing around the bookshelves.

Evans shrugged. "Not so far. We've got no idea what could've gone off to cause this big of an explosion."

"And the victims up here?"

"So far as we can tell, and I know this sounds impossible, but only one shot's been fired."

Evie turned to him, her eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"The kills were clean. One shot through the temple," he replied pointing to the man at their feet. "In and out. But yet there's no bullet hole in the wall. If a bullet had gone clean through like that it would've been buried in the wall next to him. But there's nothing here. We've found one bullet hole and that one's across the room"

"Only one?"

Evans looked at her, his eyebrows raised slightly. He seemed to be pondering whether or not she was going to be able to handle this case. "Yes ma'am. I'm assuming that's why my superiors wanted to hand this case over to you. Apparently it's too weird for us to handle. You've got a reputation for solving impossible cases. Figuring out the weirdest ones that no one else can solve."

Evie ignored the snide comment and pulled one of the books from the shelves. She inhaled sharply at the contents. "I'm going to need all of this bagged."

"Why?"

"I don't think this was a just a massacre Captain. This book by itself shows that there have been more killings than what went on here. I think that there's more to these people than meet the eye."

Evans looked around them. "That's going to be a lot of bags, Agent Thomas."

She turned to him again. "And?"

"Right," Evans said, a tight smile crossing his face. "I'll get my men right on that."

"Thank you Captain."

Evie turned away from him, accepting an evidence bag from one of the officers and tucking the book in it. She smiled at the woman and thanked her. Evie turned back to the room around her, her eyes scanning every destroyed shelf, every unmarked spine of a book. She had a feeling this was going to be a long case.

* * *

There were things she needed to check out on her computer. The murders in the books were familiar to her, cases from not too long ago that were never closed. Impossible killings that were never explained. Evie sat in the back of the unmarked police car, flipping through the book she had borrowed from the "library".

"Where to Agent Thomas?" the officer in front seat asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

"My hotel."

"You got it."

Evie barely paid attention as the officer merged into traffic. Minutes later she put the book aside and turned to look out of the window. She watched the people walking down the street, oblivious to what had happened only a few blocks down.

From the corner of her eye she saw him. He was curled up on the sidewalk, his back pressed against the wall under an ATM. He was bloodied and bruised, his clothes in tatters. Her head told her he needed help. Her head told her he needed to get to a hospital. But her gut told her he was tied into this case somehow. Her gut told her he was part, if not the cause, of the massacre a few blocks away.

She opened her mouth to tell the driver to stop, to turn around, as she twisted in the seat to look behind her. But it was too late. An instant later he was gone.

* * *

**AN: **So there you have it. I hope that you enjoyed it. I know it's kind of slow right now, but I promise it'll get better soon! Please read and review if you enjoyed. Hell, even if you didn't. I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	2. The Little Things

**AN: **Okay. Here's the first chapter and I hope that you guys all like it. I know it's been a couple months since I updated, but Wesley was giving me some problems so I was having issues writing it. But, he gave up being a pain in my ass and I was able to write again. This story, while still trying to stay true to the end of the movie, will play on some lines from when Fox and Wesley were chasing his father. I hope that all still like it and that the chapter lives up to your expectations!

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Chapter One: The Little Things**

"_Have you ever thought about doing things . . .differently?"_

"_How do you mean?"_

"_I don't know. Being somebody else? Someone . . .normal?"_

It was the same dream again. Every night the same thing. Hell. Every time he closed his eyes. It was something the he had always wondered. What if they had been 'normal'? What would have happened then? Would they have met under different circumstances? Would anything have been different?

But that last shot, that last simple bullet, had answered any questions he could have had about their future. She had been so devoted to the Code that she would follow it until the end even though it ended her life.

And yet still the dreams tormented him.

Was it guilt? Wesley shook his head, squelching the thought immediately. The Fraternity had knocked any guilty feelings, any emotion, from him in six weeks.

But that was over, wasn't it? He led a simple life now, didn't he?

"Wes," a voice called. "Hey, Wesley, man!"

Wesley turned on the barstool, his eyes and ears aware of everything and anything around him, ready to welcome his nice, normal co-workers from his nice, new, everyday normal job.

He snorted to himself. Normal. Sure. He was only ever playing at being normal.

* * *

The phone ringing woke her. The shrill ring coming from her night stand echoed hollowly in her ears. "Agent Thomas."

Six words were all that was said. Six words were all she needed. "I've got another one for you."

* * *

Evie took a sip of the coffee she was cradling in her hands. Damn it was cold.

"Evie, over here," the man smirked as he took in her heavy lidded eyes. "Good morning."

"This isn't morning Matt," Evie replied once she got close to him. "This is the ass crack of dawn."

"Get to bed late?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Working."

"Well this one'll wake you up."

"What do we have?"

"Something that appears to be a simple breaking and entering."

Evie glanced at him through the steam rising from her cup. "Then why are we here?"

He smiled. "I said _appears_. There was nothing stolen from the house. The victim has a panic room in the basement where she was found."

"Do we have a name?"

Matt flipped open the file in his hand. "Saundra Carlisle. Fifty five. Mother of two and a wife to an Anderson Carlisle. The couple owned a clothing chain downtown."

"And they own a panic room?"

Matt shrugged. "Maybe they were paranoid. With good reason apparently."

Evie nodded to the police officer standing just outside the basement door. They side-stepped other officers gathered in the small basement that had been turned into a well stocked wine cellar, the panic room door pulled open. She could see evidence markers littering the floor; the body had been removed by the coroner already.

She followed Matt as he stepped into the room, her eyes scanning everything around her. A single monitor rested against the far wall, the screen flickering between all camera locations in the house. There was food on shelves across from a small bed, enough room and supplies for two people to last several days if needed. A single phone hung on the wall next to the shelves of food.

The blood spatter across the wall behind where the body fell; how there was no sign of forced entry on the panic room door. But something didn't add up.

"This is where she was found?" she asked, pointing at the outline on the floor.

"According to the police report, yes."

"And the door was sealed from the inside?"

"Yes. She was found by her husband when he came home. He noticed the house in disarray and this was the first place he checked."

Evie stepped around the body outline, careful not to step in the neatly marked blood stain on the floor. She turned to look behind her, glancing at the angle of how the body fell and where the door was.

"Depending on where the door was when she was killed . . ." she started.

Matt nodded, already knowing what his partner was going to say. "Impossible, right?"

"Maybe. Depending on where the killer was standing and angle of the door shutting," she paused and turned to the flickering monitor behind her. "Do we have footage?"

"Forensics is going over the tapes now. Don't know what we'll find though. It could be a couple days until they find anything. Hopefully sooner but forensics isn't promising anything."

"Then let's go talk to the husband."

* * *

The computer screen glowed dimly in the light from the fluorescent bulbs above his head. It was noon. It had been three long hours since his shift started and Wesley was bored. Always so bored. His chin rested in the palm of his left hand, his elbow on the desk by his keyboard. His other hand moved the mouse around lazily. A single news headline caught his attention as he started to scroll down.

_Clothing Store Owner Found Dead in Panic Room_

He clicked on the link, the article opening up seconds later. Wesley's eyes scanned the page quickly, absorbing every word the journalist had written. _Locked from the inside . . . FBI have no leads as of yet . . . no weapon was found at the scene . . ._

"Pretty freaky isn't it?"

Wesley looked up to meet the chocolate colored eyes of his co-worker. She worked in the cubicle next to his. Ashley was her name and she was beautiful in her own way; too bad she knew it. Always wearing too tight clothing to emphasis what she had.

"What?"

Ashley gestured to the computer screen. "That. I mean, wouldn't it be freaky to die in the one place that was supposed to keep you safe? And what did the article say? Something about the way she was killed being almost impossible?"

Wesley's eyes flicked back to the screen. "Yeah. Impossible."

"So anyway," Ashley said, changing the subject. "We're all going to Rowdy's after work. You in?"

Wesley closed the page on his desktop. "Sure. I'm there."

* * *

"Do you think the husband's lying?"

Evie shook her head absentmindedly. "Didn't seem like it. We'll keep him on the list to be on the safe side." She flipped a page in the book she was looking through and paused on a page that she had read over so many times during the past year and a half.

The book was a reproduction she had taken from the "library" of the mill. It had shed little light on that case. A case that was still open. The only one she had never been able to close.

The book was snatched from her hands, her partner scanning the writing. "You always bring your work with you," he stated.

"It's not work," she replied. "It's just an-"

"Obsession?" he finished. "Give it up Evie. This case is cold. There's nothing left after the second explosion took the rest of the building out."

"Along with every police officer and FBI agent in there," Evie retorted. She grabbed the book back. "You'll have to forgive me if I work on something on my own damn time."

"You've been going over that thing with a fine tooth comb ever since I met you. There've been no leads since the massacre first happened."

"I saw-"

Matt held up his hand. "A glimpse of a man out of the corner of your eye doesn't count," he pointed at her. "He could have just been some poor bastard that had the crap kicked out of him and mugged. As a matter of fact, who's to say he ever actually existed?"

* * *

He caught her out of the corner of his eyes. Tall, long red hair, nothing but legs. Her eyes seemed to glow every time she stepped out of the light and into the shadows. She stopped in the middle of the dance floor, smiled slyly, and beckoned to him. He slipped off of the barstool and eased into the crowd. His co-workers never even noticed he left.

Wesley could tell by the way the woman carried herself that she was dangerous. The way her hips swayed as she walked purposefully toward him and the small, slinky dress that hugged her curves. He stopped in front of her, leaving a few inches between them. She smiled again.

She pulled him closer to her, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck and began to slowly move in time with the music. "No one leaves the Fraternity," she whispered into his ear.

Wesley felt her hands trail to the front of his throat as she talked, felt the sharp nick of pain as whatever she held in her hands sliced the skin of his throat. His foot kicked out seconds later as he jerked his body back. The woman lost her balance as his foot connected with her ankle.

Wesley was gone before she could scramble to her feet. She would follow him, he knew, and he would deal with her outside. "Fuck," he muttered as he wiped the blood off his neck. She shouldn't have been able to get that close.

Wesley felt his heart start to pound, could feel as the world around him seemed to slow down. Adrenalin kicked him into high gear.

He threw open the side door, rushing out into the cold air. Instant goose-bumps rushed across his skin. Wesley surveyed his surroundings. An alley. Perfect. He grabbed the first thing his hands found. A broken broom handle. Even better.

The sound of the bar being pushed on the inside of the door drew his attention behind him. Wesley rushed to the side of the door, blending in with the shadows, the light mounted on the building in front of him barely cast enough light to see by.

The door flew open, the woman stepping out quickly. He swung the pole up, connecting it solidly with her forehead. Her body jerked back and then she straightened moments later. God damn they were resilient. But he already knew that.

Wesley swung the pole up again, the thick wood connecting with her gut and then her chest. Before he could bring it up again, she lashed out, unsheathing the knife once again. He leaned back, dodging the swing although he felt it scrape the base of his chin and brought the make shift staff up again. The broom stick slammed into her forehead again, the wood splintering at contact. She grunted as her head shot to the side. He was on her before she could gain her bearings, his hand wrapped around the side of her face, his fingers tangled in her hair. He heard the crunch as her skull slammed into the brick building.

Wesley stepped back as she slumped to the ground, a trail of blood following her down. This would have been nauseating to him a little over a year ago, he mused. He could feel his heart slowing down; the adrenaline slowly wearing off. He wiped the thin trails of blood from his chin and throat with the edge of his shirt and tucked it back in once he was sure it had stopped. Wesley smoothed his shirt, ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and stepped over the prone body of the woman and then opened the door.

The roar of the music and the crowd from the bar assaulted his senses the moment he stepped inside. He made his way through the crowd to his co-workers next to the bar. Adam raised his glass in greeting.

"Wesley!" he yelled. "Where'd you go man?"

"Had to go to the bathroom," Wesley shouted back.

"With the hot red head that chased after you?"

Wesley grinned into the glass that was set in front of him. He didn't reply; merely shrugged his shoulders as if something like that happened every day.

* * *

"So what exactly are you trying to show us?"

"Just be patient Agent Simonson," Zack, the tech, replied. "It's about a minute thirty into the video."

Zack had called an hour before, telling them he had found something on the security tape from the Carlisle's house. Evie had been sleeping, or trying to at least. It hadn't been easy this past year.

"Okay. Here it is," Zack said.

Evie squinted at the footage on the screen. She could see the terrified woman run through the panic room door, turning around quickly to punch in the code to lock the door behind her. A single person-_medium height, slim build, dark hair. Male._ Evie thought- stepped into the line of the camera, their back to the lens. They stopped before moving too far, making an angry gesture. The victim shook her head ferociously. Before the door could shut, before anything else could happen, the killer swung their arm out in an arc, firing the gun midway through the curve.

With almost disbelieving eyes, despite everything that she had seen before, Evie watched the bullet fly through the air, curving easily around the closing door and striking the woman in the temple.

Matt was the first to speak. "Holy fuck."


	3. Old Habits Die Hard

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Chapter Two: Old Habits Die Hard**

"How the hell is that even possible?"

Evie glanced up from the computer screen. "Are you still on that?"

Matt was staring up at the ceiling from his desk, the back of his neck resting on the edge of his chair. "It fuckin' curved, Evie. How does that even happen?"

Evie didn't respond at first. "I don't know."

Matt sat up, leaning his arms on the desk. He watched her for a moment before responding. "But?"

She looked at him again. "What?"

"There was a 'but' at the end of that sentence."

Evie paused, contemplating how she wanted to answer. "I think we should open the Mill case back up."

Matt groaned and rubbed his face with one hand. He should have known she was going to say that. She was like a fucking pit bull: she didn't let go of something once she had her teeth in it. "I already told you its cold. Let it drop."

"You don't get it Matt," she said, irritation bubbling in her voice. "There were a dozen or more bodies in the library of that building but no bullet holes in the walls. Nothing to show that any more than one bullet was fired in that room."

"I think you've lost your mind," he stated bluntly.

Evie just shook her head. "The victims were laid out like dominoes Matt. Each one with a single bullet hole through both temples; one entry wound and one exit wound. If you can explain that to me I'll drop it."

Matt just stared at her, not sure how to reply. Evie flipped over a piece of paper on her desk and drew a circle on it followed by little x's scattered around the inside edges. She scooted it towards him. "This was the room Matt," she stated and pointed at every x in turn. "And these mark where every body was found. If you can explain to me how one bullet went through each victim's head without stopping then I'll forget all about it."

Matt's eyes scanned the page slowly, his gaze taking in each small mark. Finally he shook his head. "And how would you explain it?"

One side of Evie's lips twitched. "They curved it."

* * *

The room was cold. Why did he always keep it so cold? Wesley shut the front door of his apartment. Out of habit his eyes scanned every inch of the sparsely decorated room, looking for any sign of intrusion.

Nothing. Not even a curtain out of place. He pulled off the sweat stained shirt and tossed it aside as he made his way to the even smaller bathroom. The cold air felt good against his hot skin, the sweat feeling like ice in mere seconds. But it felt good. Nothing like a cold room after a long workout.

He had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the pounding on the front door. Wesley pulled on his pants and left the bathroom, pausing in the little hallway as he decided what to do. He grabbed a small knife from his kitchen counter after a short internal debate and made his way to the front door.

A second pounding sounded just as he made it to the door. Wesley steeled himself for any attack coming from outside of his apartment.

Everything save for what was actually waiting for him.

"Wes! Man, you are home. Sorry about this. I got your address from the employee file at work."

Wesley's jaw unclenched slowly and he slid the knife into the waist band of his pants in one smooth motion. Adam never even noticed; never even knew how close he had come to having a knife plunged into the side of his throat.

"So we're planning a guy's night out. Avery's getting married in a week as I'm sure you remember," Adam continued, his eyes scanning over Wesley's shoulder. "Damn, your place is empty. Where do you sleep?"

Wesley stepped back slightly, pulling the door with him. "You want to come in?"

Adam grinned. "Sure. Anyway, as I was saying earlier, we're taking Avery out. Sort of like an unofficial bachelor party," he said, plopping into the single chair in the room. "Hit a couple bars. Maybe pick up a couple women. At least for the men who aren't getting tied down. So what do you think? You in?"

Wesley considered the man sitting in front of him. He was hard to figure out sometimes. All Wesley could figure out about him was that he seemed to honestly want to be his friend. And that was not something he was used to. They always wanted something in return.

His last best friend had only wanted to fuck his girlfriend. And Fox . . . her friendship turned out to only be for making him into the best killer possible so he could take out his father.

Finally he shrugged and sat down on the couch facing Adam. "Sure. Why not."

Adam's face cracked with a wide smile.

* * *

"Here are all of the files you were looking for," Amanda said, dropping a box on Evie's desk with a heavy thud. "Everything from the Mill killing a year and a half ago."

"Thank you Amanda," Evie said distractedly.

"Not a problem," she replied, but made no effort to move.

Evie sighed. "What is it?"

Amanda tucked her hands into the pockets of her pants. "I just-" she paused. "I know we haven't talked in ages, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out with a couple of other girls tonight."

Evie opened her mouth to automatically say no when Amanda cut her off. "You owe me for blowing me off a year ago. I realize you love your work but you have to take a night off every now and then."

"I've got a lot of work to do, Amanda."

Amanda widened her eyes and stuck out her lower lip, giving her best sad puppy dog impression. Evie suppressed a laugh. "It's only one bar. Just a couple of drinks, then you can go back to your paperwork and your exciting life."

Evie sighed again. "Okay. But I'm not promising anything. Just tell me where to meet."

"It's a place called Rowdy's. Great drinks and hot bartenders. What more could a girl ask for?"

Evie laughed at that as Amanda walked away.

* * *

The music pounded in Evie's ears as she stepped into the bar. Dancer's littered the center of the floor, moving with each other to 3rd Strike's "Strung Out". Evie found her head moving in time to the music. God it had been so long since she'd done something other than sleep and work.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, it felt good to get out. Maybe tonight wasn't such a bad idea. Her name being called out drew her attention to a table just off the dance floor. Amanda had her arm raised in greeting.

Evie made her way across the floor, squeezing past couples and pardoning her way around groups. A man caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Striking blue eyes under a mop of dark hair. His blue shirt was unbuttoned at the top, leaving just the top of his chest visible. He was surveying the place from his table, a half-hearted smile across his lips. Her eyes caught his for a moment as she watched him. He seemed familiar . . .

Evie shook her head and dismissed him. She was not working tonight. She jerked back slightly as a drink was thrust in her face. On reflex she grabbed the drink and pulled it down, then smiled at Amanda.

"You came! You have no idea how fantastic that is," Amanda shouted over the music. "It's about time you did something other than work."

Evie simply smiled in response and sat at the table, exchanging greetings with the other women there.

* * *

He had seen her as she was gazing around the bar. Long, midnight black hair tied back in a simple twist falling to the middle of her shoulder blades. Her white shirt wrapped around the base of her neck and fell to the small of her back showing smooth, pale skin. Loose black pants graced long legs. Simple black high heeled sandals were tied to her feet.

Wesley's eyes followed her for a moment as she crossed the floor, almost elegant in her movements. She knew how to take care of herself; that he could tell just by the way she moved. Her eyes caught his for a moment and he saw the flash of neon highlight a look of recognition in her hazel eyes. His muscles tensed in response to the look.

He feigned a smile at a comment one of his companions said, but continued to watch the woman. Wesley relaxed as she finally turned away, dismissing him with a turn of her head.

A man standing across the room caught his attention next. He was standing nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets, dressed in a pressed suit, completely out of place from the crowd around him. Wesley met his gaze and felt his muscles tighten again as the man nodded in acknowledgment and then turned away, merging into the crowd.

Wesley made his excuses to his companions and then darted through the crowd, not even waiting for a response to his hurried goodbyes. He slammed through the glass entrance, startling a couple standing there, and jumped down the steps. The man was making no move to hide. He stood down the street, just as calmly as he had in the bar. He turned away the moment he caught Wesley's gaze and bolted down the street.

Wesley followed, pushing past people walking and jumping over obstacles in his way. The man bolted across the street after they had been running a few blocks. Cars honked and slammed on their breaks as the man ran in front of them. Wesley paused on the sidewalk, knowing the man was leading him into a trap. But if he didn't follow he also knew they would keep coming after him. The woman the other night was proof of that.

Without a second thought, Wesley ran into the street, dodging around cars and jumping over others until he reached the other sidewalk. His heart pounded in his chest as he searched the street. _Shit._ He'd lost him.

A shrill whistle drew his gaze up into an empty building in the middle of being remodeled. _Shit. _The man jerked his head up again and turned away from the window. Three floors up. Damn they weren't making this easy.

Wesley tore through the rotted door. He made his way through the room to the stairs, jumping quickly up them, careful of any that looked damaged.

The door to the third floor was missing completely. Wesley stopped outside of the door, pressing himself against the wall and tilted his head slightly to gaze into the room. The man stood in the middle of the room, staring directly at Wesley, knowing he was there.

Wesley entered the room, his eyes still scanning every dark corner, every shadow, for movement. He stopped a few feet from the other man, relaxed, but ready for anything.

After a few moments of silent staring, Wesley spoke. "What are you waiting for?"

The man's eyebrows rose. "If we had wanted you dead you, would be," he said, a light Russian accent layering his words.

Wesley paused, his eyes flicking around the dark room. "We?"

Slowly and silently three more people emerged from the shadows surrounding him. Wesley allowed his feet to slide apart; shifting into a slight defensive stance. They were clearly Fraternity trained. No one could have gotten that close to him otherwise.

The man's lips quirked. "Hard to fight the training isn't it? I suppose they did make you the best."

"Who are you?"

"I told you there is no need to be defensive. We are not here to harm you."

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "You're Fraternity," he stated.

The man shrugged. "We were."

"Were."

"We are here to join you; to help you."

Wesley felt incredulous laughter bubble up in his chest. "Help me? Why should I trust you?"

The man's face grew serious. "We were friends of your father's."

* * *

**AN: **And there it is. The second (well third if you count the prologue) chapter of EDiEtS. I've introduced some new characters and plot lines that I will be bringing back from time to time. Some of them will be important and others won't, but we'll just have to wait and see who is who won't we? I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Clues

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Chapter Three: Clues**

Evie was running as fast as she damn well could. She had lost Matt a few blocks back. Whether he had gone a different way or just fell behind, she wasn't sure. The man she was chasing, however, she could see just fine. No matter how many obstacles he threw in her way she would not lose him. She needed the little bastard.

He dodged down an alley, Evie following close behind. She kicked off with her feet, taking one last lunge at him. If she missed. . .

Evie's right shoulder connected with the middle of his back, her arms wrapped around his body quickly. He tumbled to the ground and they both skidded across the dirt covered pavement. Evie grunted as she felt the cement bite into the skin of her arm. God, that wasn't going to look pretty later.

Her prey elbowed her in the ribs and scurried from her grasp as her grip loosened. He looked just like the rodent he was named after. Evie pushed her foot under her and kicked to her feet. She shot after the perp again, ignoring the stinging pain in her arm. "You son of a bitch," she spat. "I swear to God if you don't stop I'll hurt you worse than I was going to."

He shot a frantic look over his shoulder but didn't stop. With a frustrated grunt she lunged at him again. Their momentum as she hit him threw them into the cement wall of the building next to them. She pressed her uninjured forearm into the back of his neck, her other hand holding onto his arm in a death grip. Evie could hear him whimpering as the brick cut into his cheek. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Shut up, you pain in my ass," she spat. "I told you I only wanted to talk to you."

"Then why did you chase me?" he answered, his voice muffled by the wall.

"Because you ran!"

"I only ran because I thought you were going to hurt me!"

Evie rolled her eyes. "When have I ever hurt you?"

"Well-"

"Besides right now Mouse," she interjected.

"When we first met-"

"You drew a gun on me. That I claim as self defense. But after that we cut a deal didn't we? I let you go and only bother you when I need something."

Mouse didn't respond. He was watching her from the corner of the only eye he could see her from. "Then let me go now," he muttered, his words stifled by the cement.

Evie considered him for a moment. He was a chicken, sure, but she didn't think he would try anything else. Pressing her forearm one more time into the back of his neck, she stepped back. She glanced down at her wounded arm, allowing her stance to relax. Evie allowed him the hope that she wouldn't hurt him again, all while knowing that she would plant a boot in his gut if he tried to run again.

Mouse pushed himself around, leaning his back against the wall and reaching up to tenderly touch his abused cheek. "What do you want Agent Thomas?" he asked begrudgingly.

"Information on the Carlisle killing," she replied, glaring into his beady eyes.

"Don't know nothin'." He answered automatically.

"Mouse," she started, a tone of warning in her voice.

"I don't!" he cried, panicked, his arms going in front of him as if to protect himself from her onslaught. "Honest! I don't know anything!"

"Then why don't I believe you?"

"You don't believe nobody."

Evie stared at him for a moment, blinking, and then shrugged. "I'll give you that. But," she stepped closer, "I do need information on the Carlisle killing."

"I _told _you-"

"Then find something out. Anything. Nothing goes down in this city that you can't find out."

Mouse smiled sheepishly. "That's true," he replied. Evie knew he was giving himself a mental pat on the back. "Fine. Alright. I'll try to find something out. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll do what I can."

Evie smiled. "Good. While you're looking into that, see if you can find any connection with the Mill killings as well."

Mouse's gaze snapped to hers. "What else would I be able to find out about that?"

Her smile grew tight. "Whatever you can."

Mouse stared at her for a moment more and then bolted to his right. Evie didn't even watch him go, paying more attention to the wound on her arm. She knew he wouldn't try to do anything more. He really was like the rodent he was named after. He ran until someone caught him and then was too scared to anything else. Evie was pretty sure he would have buried his head in the pavement he if could have dug a hole in it.

She looked up as she heard footsteps reach the mouth to the alley. Matt crouched there, hunched over, his hands on his knees. He was breathing hard. Running was definitely not his forte.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Fine," he panted.

Matt stood as she made her way up to him. She patted him on the stomach. "Are you getting a belly?"

Matt swatted her hand away. "Oh shut up. I'm so sorry if long distance running is not my thing. I wasn't the high school track team superstar."

"I was far from a superstar," Evie said.

"Whatever," Matt replied, walking beside her. "Did you at least catch him? I didn't risk my lungs for nothing, did I?"

"No. I caught him."

Matt watched her for a moment, waiting. Finally he said, "And?"

"He didn't have anything. He'll be looking into it."

"Do you think he'll find anything?"

Evie shrugged. "He hasn't let me down yet."

* * *

_"We were friends of your father's."_

Wesley blinked as the words came unbidden into his mind. He had tried not to think about the group of people that had showed up three nights before. And whether he believed them or not was another question. He couldn't trust anyone. Anyone could be Fraternity.

He moved quietly up the stairs to his apartment, the setting sun behind him casting his shadow against the pale, mold colored walls. The last stair he stepped over. It always creaked. He wouldn't be surprised if it gave out one day.

Wesley knew something was wrong the moment he got near his door. There was no outward disturbance; nothing to give a reason for his uneasiness. But he knew. He felt it. His door knob turned slightly, it was loose, unlocked. Finally he pushed the door open. The door swung open slowly, Wesley braced himself for any impact that came at him. A hand pushed through doorway, grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room.

Wesley rolled with the punch, using his weight against his opponent. The bastard would not get the best of him. His hit was blocked by a forearm.

"Relax Mr. Gibson. Once again I am not here to hurt you."

Wesley pulled back, his body still in a defensive stance. "What are you doing here?"

The man spread his hands out in appeasement. "I merely wanted to-"

"What? Talk?"

"After everything we told you the other night, one would think you would believe us."

Wesley shut his door, taking one cursory glance outside before hand. "Would you believe me if I just showed up on your doorstep and told you that I wanted you to destroy a world wide assassination ring?" Wesley walked past him to the small kitchen. He turned slightly to the other man. "Drink, Mr. Caius?"

"Lucien, please," he corrected. Wesley merely looked over at him. "No, thank you," Lucien finally replied.

"What do you want?" Wesley asked, grabbing a drink from his fridge.

"The Fraternity betrayed us just like you Wesley," Lucien stated. "Your father was the only one who saw through Sloan's ruse. He would have killed us all if your father had not formed our group."

Wesley stared at him over his drink. "And what do you expect me to do? The Fraternity cell here is destroyed. Sloan is dead. I put a bullet in half of them myself."

Lucien's lips turned up in a smile. "That is why we came to you. Cross sought to destroy all of the Fraternity. You succeeded where he did not."

"Because _I_ killed him!"

Lucien held up a placating hand. "Without knowing who he really was. Sloan tricked you. The Fraternity screwed you over," he replied, his gaze steely. "Fox was correct when she told you that you were the only one Cross would never kill."

Lucien sighed. "If Cross had been able to get to you first; if you had been able to learn the truth, none of that would have ever happened. The Fraternity would have been destroyed," his eyes grew distant. "The two of you together would have been . . . magnificent.

"We need to have you on our side Wesley, to finish what your father started."

"And if I say no?"

Lucien sat down, as graceful as a lion, his hands resting on the chair, seemingly relaxed. Wesley knew better. "Think of what I am offering you. If you help us you will never have to hide again. You will no longer be a hunted man."

"I'm not worried about being hunted."

"You should be. There can always be someone stronger than you; faster than you. You will not always come out the victor."

"And I'll deal with that when the time comes."

Lucien watched him. He was every bit as cocky as his father. "We need your help on this Wesley. Whether you realize it or not; whether you want to admit it or not, we need you. You can live a normal life."

Wesley's eyes grew distant. _Being someone else? Someone normal?_ He could never be normal again.

* * *

"You should really be more careful Agent Thomas."

Evie's lips quirked. "Oh you've got that tone again."

"This is the third time in two months that I've had to bandage you up. You know, there are agents that spend their entire career never getting injured, or at least go more than two months."

Evie sighed. "Other agents just aren't as lucky as I am, I guess."

"Evangeline-"

Evie winced at the use of her full name. "Don't. Don't start."

"I just think you need to be more careful. Next time you might not be lucky."

"Dr. Carter-Daniel-I'll be fine. You know that."

Daniel finished wrapping the bandage on her arm. "I just worry and you know it. I promised your father when he died that I would watch out for you," he turned to throw away the gloves he had been wearing and the alcohol pads. "I don't want to see you killed."

Evie jumped down from the table. She patted the older man on the shoulder in comfort. "I'll be fine, Daniel," she reiterated. She held up her newly bandaged arm. "This was just a mishap. Mistimed a jump, that's all."

Daniel looked over at her. Finally a smile crossed his face. "Did you at least catch him?"

She chuckled. "Of course."

He nodded. "I'm not condoning you injuring yourself for that."

Evie pulled him into a hug. "Of course not. It was good seeing you again," she pushed away and held up her arm. "Thanks again for this."

"You're welcome as always. Say hello to your mother for me."

A tight smile pulled at her lips. "I will."

* * *

So far, as near as he could tell, there were five hundred and thirty three holes in the tile above him. Matt had hit a wall in the investigation he was working on. He had gone over the video countless times, gone over the husband's answers, but still could not come up with any conclusions. They had a base description of the killer. No facial features were ever seen, the bastard was able to hide himself everywhere save for that one shot where he was seen from behind.

He was waiting for Evie to get back from the doctor's and he was going crazy. Matt never realized how much easier this was when Evie was here. He didn't feel like bantering with himself on this. He needed her to toss ideas around with. She always thought outside of the box. Add to that her complete obsession with the Mill killing. Everything always led back to that case.

"Hey Matt! There's someone here to see you!"

Matt jerked up in his seat. He looked over to the man who called him. A tiny man stood next to the agent. _Mouse. _He jerked his head up, giving the agent permission to send him over.

"Is Agent Thomas here?" Mouse asked as soon as he was at the desk, his eyes searching the room. "I need to talk to her."

Matt gestured to the seat next to him. Mouse shook his head. "She's not here. Had an appointment to keep."

Mouse scratched his head. "Do you know when she'll be back? I-I need to talk to her."

"Don't know. It could be any time."

"Would you just, um, give her a message for me then?" Mouse simpered.

Matt nodded. "What is it?"

Mouse's eyes shifted back and forth, he wrung his hands nervously. "Jus- just tell her 'The Fraternity'."

* * *

**AN: **So another chapter down. Hope all of you like it. The muse has decided to stay for awhile so I shouldn't have any problems for awhile. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you think!


	5. I Know You

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Chapter Four: I Know You**

Evie was sitting on her couch, her feet propped up on her coffee table. The copied pages of the book from the mill library were resting against her pajama clad legs. She had scoured every inch of every page since she had found it. There couldn't possibly be anything she had missed in it but still she searched. There had to be something. There had to be something that she had missed.

Evie took a bite of the ice cream melting on her spoon. A newscast droned on from the TV in the background, something she really wasn't paying that much attention to.

The Fraternity, that was what Mouse had said. But what the _hell_ was the Fraternity? There had been nothing in the FBI databases about something, some group, called the Fraternity. But that wasn't going to stop her. No matter what, Evie was going to find out what he meant.

A knock on her door pulled Evie from the book. The spoon still in her mouth, she looked up. It was well after midnight. She wasn't expecting anyone. Evie walked cautiously towards the now silent front door. She rolled her eyes as she peered through the peephole.

"Yes, Matt," she sighed as she opened the door.

His eyes roved over her for a moment, taking in her messily pulled up hair, the long flannel pajama pants and spaghetti strap shirt, "It's just a flesh wound" printed on the shirt and pants. To his credit, Matt refrained from laughing aloud.

He grinned instead. "Cute."

"I hope this is important."

"Would I bother you for any other reason?"

Evie stared at him for a moment. He grinned wider and held up a bag of Dunkin Donuts. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she stepped aside to allow him entry to her home. Matt walked in and paused only when she turned to close the door.

His smile faltered slightly as he stared at her. A bullet wound marked her right shoulder, the scar pale in comparison to the rest of her skin. A jagged scar traced its way across the inside of Evie's left bicep. The bandage from that morning was still wrapped tightly around her right forearm. The one scar, however, that always drew his eyes was the one in between her shoulder blades. It was her newest save for the one on her arm, he knew that much.

The scar was from right before he had become her partner. Her old partner, God rest his soul, had been killed in an undercover operation. The case had gone bad, their cover had been blown. Evie's partner had been shot and killed instantly. One of the perps had snuck up behind her and stabbed her with a six inch knife, nearly missing her spine but puncturing her right lung.

It had been months of recovery and even longer before she had been put back on active duty. It was after that that Evie had been assigned the Mill case and then only six months after that he was told to become her partner. And it was . . . interesting to say the least. Never a dull moment with the one agent who always wanted the creepy and unsolvable cases.

Evie started as she turned around. She hadn't been expecting Matt to still be standing there. "Did you forget where the living room was?"

Matt's smile came back full force. "Of course not. I was just so stunned by your awesome pajama clad beauty I couldn't move."

Evie rolled her eyes again and shoved him into the living room. "Shut it."

She plopped down on the couch, once again placing her feet on the edge of the table. She reached for the ice cream box but frowned into it when she found all of it was mush. Matt took the cup slowly and replaced it with a soft, chocolate covered donut.

"Sprinkles."

"Just the way you like it."

Evie bit into it gratefully. "What did you want, Matt?" she asked around a mouthful of donut.

"I was going over the Mill files, just like you said."

"Uh huh."

He was watching her slowly eat the soft dough. It was as if she was savoring each bite, not wanting to eat it too fast. Her eyes snapped to his.

"What?"

Matt grinned. "You remind me of a chipmunk," he replied. "I'm waiting for you to store the extra food in your cheeks for winter."

Evie glared over at him. "So what'd you come here for?" she asked. And then almost as an afterthought, "Besides donuts."

"You're gonna love this," Matt replied as he plopped down onto the couch beside her. "You know that there were fingerprints found on all of the weapons found in the Mill and that, from what they could tell, all the prints were found to belong to the victims. But, apparently there was a smudged fingerprint found on one of the guns. Only problem is, is that they shut the case down before anyone had a chance to do anything with it."

Evie had stilled in mid-chew as he was talking. Slowly, she turned to him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Matt stated, shoving the file he was holding into her hands, "that we have a break in the case."

Evie stared at him for a few moments more before finally looking down at the folder in her hands. She was almost afraid to open it, but she wasn't sure why. This was something she had waited for for two years, wasn't it? This was the answer to most, if not all, of her questions.

Finally she flipped open the folder to stare down at the picture on top. The hand of a gun stared back at her, a single circle surrounding the print Matt had told her about.

Evie scrutinized the photo before flipping to the next page. A lab sheet followed the photo, filled with words that she skimmed over.

The next page had another photo attached. A photo obviously taken from a driver's license. Shocking blue eyes stared up at her from beneath a mop of dark hair. He wasn't smiling. It looked more like a mug shot than anything else. Beneath the photo was an entire background check for a Wesley Gibson.

"It can't be this easy," she whispered.

"Oh, it's not," Matt answered, making Evie jump. She'd forgotten he was there. "Mr. Gibson here was last seen four weeks before the Mill shootout and hasn't been seen since. No one knows where he went or what happened to him. We do know that right before he disappeared he was also wanted for a shooting in a local grocery store. He went to work the next day and then was gone."

"Then is a name all we have to go on?"

Matt shook his head. "We have his last knowns. Got a listing for his last job and last residence."

"Any family?" Evie asked, her eyes straying once more to the photo. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before.

"Mother died a couple years ago. Apparently the father was never in the picture and there were no siblings."

"So all we have to go on is a name and former job?"

Matt grinned. "Hey, at least it's more than we had a couple days ago."

* * *

Wolff watched. His target led such an ordinarily boring life. Jog in the morning, work all day, an occasional drink with the people from work and then home. Why would he do such mundane things when he could do the things that Wolff knew he could do?

If he hadn't known any better Wolff would have thought this man was a nothing. After all, that was how he acted.

If Wolff hadn't seen him take out three Fraternity members with his own eyes, he would never have thought that this man was capable of anything more than typing on a keyboard.

The Fraternity wanted him out of the way. He had destroyed too many of them to let live. Wesley Gibson had to die.

* * *

Andre Hicks ran through the building. He was the last one there; he always was. Working late just got work done quicker. The hallways were quiet, dead, deserted. The entire building would be that way this late at night. He was being followed, that was why he was running. Andre saw the shadow moving out of the corner of his eyes and every time he moved. Maybe it was the fact that it was so late, and that the building had been empty for nearly three hours, that had him frightened.

Or maybe it was due to the fact that he thought he knew who was coming for him.

But why they would be gunning for him now, he couldn't be sure. After all, he was still paying.

Andre had just convinced himself that no one was there, that no one was after him, when he heard the soft thud on the roof of the elevator. He looked up, startled.

* * *

The next time anyone saw Andre Hicks was when the elevator hit the bottom floor the next morning. His eyes were open, lying on his back with his arms splayed out and legs buckled under him, a single bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.

* * *

"How could I have even missed this?"

"Don't beat yourself up over it. They shut it down before you really had a chance to look everything over anyway."

"But a fingerprint, Matt? That's not something easily missed," she said.

Matt shrugged. He pulled the door to the office building open for her. "I guess it's just a good thing you have me for a partner."

Evie smacked his arm as she walked by him, thanking him as she entered the building. "And who are we meeting again?"

"He used to work here. Apparently he left in a very memorable way."

"So his old floor manager?"

Matt nodded. "You know, I've heard of postal workers going insane, but office workers? If that's the case maybe we're due sometime soon."

Evie chuckled. "I think you have a different type of insanity Matt."

"Excuse me? Can I help you?"

Evie and Matt turned to the receptionist sitting behind the large brown desk, an earpiece in her right ear, big brown eyes hidden behind thick glasses.

"Yes, thank you," Evie responded. "We're here to see-" she paused to look at the name in her folder. "Janice Crichton."

The receptionist flinched slightly and then smiled. "Of course. Just go down that hall, take a left and ride the elevator up to level three. She should be in her office. Just ask Terry when you get there. He'll let her know you're here."

Evie gave a small smile. "Thank you."

"Did you see the look on that receptionist's face?" Matt asked once they were out of earshot. "I don't think she likes Janice. I'm not sure if it was hatred or fear."

The elevator dinged as it reached the third floor. The quiet noise of the office hit them as the door opened. A thirty-ish man sat behind a desk right in front of the elevator, his black hair slicked back. An overweight red headed woman was standing over his shoulder. She wore an angry look on her face, her small eyes narrowed as he typed.

The man looked up as they exited the elevator. "Hello there," he said, his eyes roaming up and down at Evie. "Can I help you?"

"We're here to see Janice Crichton." Evie replied for the second time in ten minutes.

The woman stood up straight as Evie spoke. The man simply turned his head to look behind him.

"How can I help you?" the woman asked.

"Miss Crichton?"

"Yes?"

Evie pulled her badge from her belt and flipped it open. "I'm Special Agent Evie Thomas, this is my partner Agent Matt Simonson. Do you mind if we have a word with you?"

The man, Terry, Evie assumed, was looking back and forth as they spoke. His eyebrows were arched in curiosity.

"What's this about?"

"We'd rather talk to you in private, Miss Crichton," Matt answered

Janice paled but nodded. "Of course. If you'll just follow me to my office we'll talk there."

Evie followed Janice down the narrow aisle between cubicles, Matt walking next to her. "I can picture a couple ways he wanted to help you," Matt said quietly.

"Bite me."

Matt smirked.

The workers behind the desks glanced up discreetly as they walked by; most of them looked at them from the corner of their eyes. Evie studied them. Some people had pictures tacked to their cork boards. Most had notes pertaining to work and nothing else. All of them looked down quickly if Janice turned their way.

Janice opened the door to a small glassed in office, letting them in first before entering herself and shutting the door. She sat behind the desk, gesturing for Evie and Matt to take the chairs in front of her.

"So what can I do for you?"

"We are in the middle of a murder investigation and believe that one of your former employees might have been involved." Matt answered.

Janice sat up straighter in her hard backed chair. "A murder? One of our employees?"

"A former employee, Miss Crichton," Evie responded. "Perhaps you remember him? Wesley Gibson?" she fished a picture from the folder and slid it across the desk to her.

Janice didn't even look down at the photo. Her expression turned to one of slight anger. "I remember him," she stated simply.

Matt looked at Evie. "Anything else you can tell us?" he prompted.

"Poor worker," Janice stated. "Always so slow. I had to stay on him to get him to do his job. He was always taking these pills to calm his anxiety or stress or whatever. He had a constant supply in his desk."

"But he never had any mental health issues?" Evie asked. "No violent tendencies?"

Janice's eyes shot to Evie's. "Not at first. The last day he was here he seemed to just have a mental breakdown. He yelled at me, broke my stapler and hit another employee with a keyboard. He stormed out of the building after that and I never saw him again."

Evie blinked. "He hit another employee with a keyboard?"

"Yes," Janice replied, nodding. "Just walked by him and broke the keyboard over his jaw."

"Is that employee still here?"

"No. He left a couple months ago. We might still have footage of it though. The company likes to keep record of any time employees have an accident or altercations with one another."

"Could we get a copy of that?"

"Of course, let me call security."

The phone buzzing against her hip drew Evie's attention away. "Excuse me for a moment," she muttered. "Thomas."

"Security should have the tapes up in a couple minutes," Janice told them after she hung up the phone.

Evie tucked her phone back into its case, tugging her jacket back into place.

"Matt," she said. "We've got another one."

* * *

"The office manager of the building found him first thing this morning. The elevator opened, she happened to be looking down."

"We got a name?" Matt asked as he knelt next to the victim.

"No ID on the body," the officer replied, "but the manager positively identified him as Andre Hicks. Apparently he likes to work late. No one else was here when it happened."

Evie glanced around. "Not even security?"

The officer shrugged. "From what Ms. Freighton, the manager, said, they don't have any. Security leaves the same time the worker's do. It's a small business."

"Not even cameras?"

"Elevator has a camera. We've already contacted the company to get a hold of the tapes."

Evie nodded, her eyes wandering over the walls of the elevator. They stayed for a moment on the screened in camera and then moved on.

"Excuse me agents," the officer called. "Coroner's here for the body."

Evie and Matt moved aside. "Of course."

Matt watched as the coroners made the body ready. There was something about the way the body was positioned, the way he had fallen. His knees were bent at such an odd angle. On a hunch, he leaned into the bloody elevator and craned his neck to look up.

His eyes scoured the ceiling, looking for anything. "What if," he started, "Mr. Hicks was looking up when he was killed?"

Evie turned to him, her eyebrows furrowed. "Up?"

"Look at his neck," he said. "It's bent back. His knees are bent out as if he collapsed down when he was shot, not fell back."

Evie looked over his shoulder, gazing at the way the body was laying, the way the neck was bent. "Maybe. We'll have to get the M.E. to verify."

"I think we need to check the ceiling for bullet holes. If I'm right, Mr. Hicks heard it coming."

"We'll have forensics go over it. Come on. Let's go talk to the manager. See what else she can tell us about Mr. Hicks. Maybe we can finally get a break."

* * *

_Well that was a big load of nothing,_ Matt thought, staring at the computer screen in front of him. Maybe Evie was right. Even though they had a name, and a suspect for the Mill killings and possibly these new murders, they still had nothing. Just having a name was nothing to go on. Especially not when said suspect had been missing for almost two years now.

Zack already had the security footage from the elevator and the office company. Hopefully he would get something soon.

"Where to from here partner?" He heard Evie ask.

Matt swallowed the mouthful of coffee he had just taken. "Home, I think. I think I need home. It's been a long ass day and I'm ready for it to be over."

She nodded. "I think I'll go by and visit the old girlfriend. See what she knows."

Matt looked at her through his caffeine daze. "I'll go with you."

Evie pulled her jacket over her arms and gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about it Matt. You go home and rest, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

Matt grabbed hold of her right arm and lifted it slightly. "I can see that."

Evie pulled away. "Please, Matt. Just go home." She patted his shoulder. "Go home and rest. I'm sure Caroline is worried about you. Besides, you look like hell."

She began to walk away when he called out. "Don't stay out too long, my dear."

Evie waved over her shoulder. "Thanks Mom."

* * *

All it had taken was a flash of her badge to get the girl to open her door. And all it had taken was one look at the picture of Wesley Gibson, one mention of his name, to make to girl go off on a rant about a no-good ex-boyfriend who disappeared and left her to cover rent by herself. Even though she tried not to judge any person that dealt with a case, Evie couldn't help completely understanding the reason Wesley would want to disappear from this woman. Kind of whiny, she was. And a bit of a bitch.

Evie could even see the reason Wesley would have wanted to attack the blonde moron sitting in front of her as well. He'd been staring lewdly at her since she stepped into the apartment, a stupid half grin never leaving his lips.

"I haven't seen Wesley since he and that whore came in here. He pushes in, assaults Barry and goes into the bathroom. Next thing I know he comes out and starts making out with some brown headed chick. Then they leave."

"Can you give me a description of her?"

Cathy shrugged. "Tall. Long brown hair, high cheekbones. She had tattoos on both hands. Couldn't get much more out of that. She didn't talk or anything."

"She was hot." Barry added.

"Barry!" Cathy exclaimed, her voice rising to a high pitch. She smacked him on the shoulder.

"What? It's true."

"Do you have any idea what Mr. Gibson did while he was in the bathroom?" Evie asked, jotting down the brief description Cathy was able to give her.

Cathy scoffed. "I didn't ask."

"I see. Well. If you can think of anything else just let me know," Evie replied as she stood up. She pulled a card from inside her jacket and handed it to Cathy. "Here's my card. Give me a call if you remember anything else."

Cathy stood up with her, walking her to the door and unchaining it. "I wish I could have been more help, Agent Thomas."

"No, don't worry about it. Thank you for your time."

Evie turned away from the girl and walked down the dingy hall. She had a feeling this was going to be a long case. She was still no closer to finding Wesley Gibson. And still no closer to finding any clues about the Fraternity that Mouse had mentioned.

She walked down the set of stairs leading to the outside door and stepped outside. She tugged at the sides of her jacket. Evie looked up as her foot hit the pavement. A man stood across the street from her, his hands tucked into his pockets, startling blue eyes glowing in the lamplight. She turned away when his face didn't register. Before she even took one step, she looked back at him, a picture flashing through her mind.

"Wait!"

* * *

Wesley loosened his tie as he walked down the street. He paused as his surroundings grew familiar. He finally looked up to notice the recognizable buildings around him. His old apartment stood across the street from him, most of the windows dark. One window, however, was lit. A window that he was all too familiar with.

Wesley paused on the concrete as he stared up at the shining window. He tucked his hands in his pants pockets, standing relaxed, his feet spread apart. He knew if he turned around his father's old apartment wouldn't be there. Wesley had burned the apartment down when he had gotten rid of Sloan. There would be no trace of him or anyone else ever being there.

A movement in his old window caught his eye. A small white cat had jumped up on the ledge, its green eyes staring down at him. Annabelle. That cat would be the one thing that he would miss from his old life. At least she was friendlier than his girlfriend.

The door to the building opened suddenly as he watched. A woman stepped out of it, the light from the stairwell highlighting her frame, a woman that he had seen before. Long black hair tied in a knot at the base of her neck. Thin slacks covering her long legs. A black jacket covered a blood red blouse, the top buttons undone.

Wesley watched as she adjusted her jacket, pulling the sides out slightly. His stance tensed as he saw the gun holstered on her waist, a shiny badge tucked next to it. _Shit._

She looked up then, her gaze meeting his for a moment and then turning away. Before she took a step her eyes snapped back up to his. Shock registered on her face for a moment. She stepped forward slightly, looking down the street reflexively before she started across.

Wesley had already turned away when he heard her call.

"Wait!"

But it was too late. He had already bolted down the street.

* * *

**AN: **And there you have it. It's just getting exciting. Not much Wesley in this chapter, but I promise he'll be in it more next time! I just hope that you enjoyed it and let me know what you think!


	6. Found You

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Chapter Five: Found You**

Matt staggered groggily to his bed, shedding his clothes as he went, the garments falling in dirty piles on the floor. He collapsed on to the bed and pulled the covers over his body. An arm snaked around his waist, a cheek rested against his chest.

"You're late," she whispered.

Matt pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Sorry. Chasing some leads."

"You'd think I'd be used to this," she muttered, snuggling closer to him. "But I miss you being in my bed when I go to sleep."

He smiled into her hair as his thumb rubbed her back. Caroline had been the one steady thing in his otherwise screwed up life. His job never allowed him for a normal day. And his partner . . . well his partner could never be considered normal. Who in their right mind would ever allow their work to consume their life? You had to have some down time at some point.

Matt's smile widened. And his favorite down time was currently curled next to him, her bare leg wrapped around his. A gentle kiss on the bottom of his chin pulled him from his thoughts.

"Did you find any?" Caroline asked between kisses, going back to their earlier conversation.

Matt rolled them over, bracing himself on his forearm. He leaned down, his lips hovering over hers. Caroline gazed up into his eyes and grinned. His own grin started to form as he stared at her. Their lips met in a gentle kiss that quickly turned hard and wanting.

They were both panting when they finally parted and Matt changed his attention to the sensitive flesh of her throat.

Caroline chuckled. "You do always have a way of changing the subject."

Matt merely smiled against her skin, his hands roaming to places he knew would distract her even more.

* * *

They had been running through the streets, one chasing the other. At that time of the night the streets were deserted and Evie was thankful for that. They would have drawn more than a few gazes had there been more people around.

Finally, Evie had enough. No more running. No more chasing

She stopped in her tracks, her hands pulling the gun from her hip and bringing it up. "FBI! Do not move!"

He seemed to falter for a moment, as if deciding whether to obey or not, and then he stopped, his legs spread apart slightly. One hand hovered at the small of his back, the other clenched into a fist at his side. Evie wasn't sure if he had a weapon, but she couldn't risk it. If his hand moved even one inch she would shoot him.

"Turn around," she said, loud enough for him to hear her.

He turned slowly, his blue eyes catching the lamplight above him. The lamp highlighted his features; the hard lines of his face making him look so much older than he was. Evie was positive this was the man from the picture. She would swear on her father's grave that this was the same person responsible for the Mill killings.

He was watching her intently, his body settling in a slight crouch. Evie could tell that he was ready for anything that could come at him. But no matter what, she would not let him get away. She would have to be careful.

He seemed so unassuming; a normal guy who worked at a normal job. But if he was the same person that she was looking for, then she knew he wasn't someone to take lightly. Evie could not afford to underestimate him.

"Put your hands up slowly."

His hand didn't move from the small of his back. His head moved a fraction of an inch, his muscles tightened slightly and before she could blink he fired his gun.

"Turn around."

* * *

Her voice was hard. It was a demand; a demand that she expected to be followed. Why disappoint? Wesley turned around, keeping his hand near the small of his back. He wasn't sure who she was. He had seen the badge but that never meant anything. He didn't know how far the Fraternity had their claws.

Wesley watched the woman. She was stubborn. And she was good. He hadn't been able to shake her. She had followed him through crowds, dark alleys (where any sane person would have given up), past empty buildings. Now here they stood, alone on an empty street.

Wesley's eyes flicked around the street. He didn't like to be this open. The woman was going to call attention to them. If he wasn't already being followed, that is. He saw the sudden flash of silver behind her, the soft glint of the light off of a lens. _Fuck._ Wesley's fist closed around the butt of his gun and his arm flicked out.

He fired his gun before the woman even knew what was coming.

* * *

She heard the gun shot from behind her. She pivoted on her right foot, knowing it wasn't going to be quick enough. Time seemed to slow as she heard the second gun shot from the man in front of her.

Evie watched as the two bullets collided in front of her, inches in front of where her heart would have been and then fall to the cement, the metal melded together from the strike. The next thing she knew, there was a body pressed up behind her, an arm in her eye line, a gun gripped tightly in its hand. A second arm wrapped around her chest, the hand gripping her shoulder, and she was turned around roughly as the gun was fired again.

The next thing she knew she was being pushed forward, the lost moments of time picking up and going faster than she ever remembered. She stumbled slightly at first but quickly gained her bearings.

Evie heard more shots fired behind her. She skidded to a stop and turned around sharply, bringing her gun up. Evie got off one shot before a hand clamped down on her forearm and pulled her away.

"This," his voice whispered, "will not help you. You need to run. Get as far from here as possible."

"And what about you?" she asked. Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes caught bright blue orbs, close up for the first time. "It _is_ you," she hissed.

"Now is not the time to discuss this with you. You need to get out of here." He pushed her from behind. His hand trailed down her arm, brushing against the wound on her forearm and then gripped her hand tightly in his. He bolted in front of her, not even looking back to see if she was still there.

Evie wasn't even sure how she was keeping up to a man that seemed to be running abnormally fast. Not even an Olympic runner could keep up with him. She kept her gun at her side, her finger beside the trigger, ready for anything that could happen. Evie saw the crowds before they hit, late night club goers walking the strip. She thought he would slow down before they made it to the crowd.

She was wrong.

Wesley (and she was _positive_ it was him) merged with the people without ever slowing down. He moved effortlessly through them, seeming to blend in perfectly despite the guns in both of their hands.

When they were several blocks away, still merging with crowds, Wesley pulled them into a darkened alleyway. He pushed her against the brick wall. A protest stuck in her throat. His body was pressed up against hers as if they were lovers getting a moment away from the crowded street.

Wesley had placed the weapon back in the waistband of his pants when he had pulled them into the shaded alley. His hands were placed on both sides of her shoulders, his legs between hers.

Wesley was staring at the mouth of the alley, watching for any pursuers. He turned to her after a few moments, his eyes gazing into hers, the blue almost glowing despite the lack of good light. "It's not safe here," he said quietly. "We need to go someplace safe."

"The only place we are going is to FBI head quarters."

His lips twitched. "Really." It was a statement, not a question.

"Even if I have to drag you down there myself."

A snort slipped through his throat. "I don't think so."

Evie struck before he saw it coming. She grabbed his arm, ducking under it and pulling it up and behind his back. She pushed forward, slamming him into the wall. Evie heard him grunt, felt his muscles begin to coil. Before she could move he pushed off of the wall, making her stumble a few steps back and begin to fall. Evie held onto him for balance. He bent down, ducking his head under her arm and twisted, attempting to free his arm.

Evie let go and pivoted on her left foot. Her right leg swung up, seeking to connect with any part of his body it could hit first.

Wesley blocked the kick and responded with one of his own which Evie easily pushed aside. He was holding back. She could tell and it was pissing her off. She was throwing just about everything she could at him and he was shrugging it off like she was nothing but a bug to be swatted away. He wasn't even attacking. He merely deflected her blows.

Her foot slipped on an unseen puddle as she attacked again. Evie wasn't even sure it had happened until her back hit the ground, her head slamming into the concrete.

* * *

Wolff cursed under his breath. He had been following his target all night. And then this fucking woman gets in the way. Son of a bitch. This was supposed to be an easy job. He tucked the gun back under his jacket and ran after them. He figured he could get them easily. They were alone on a deserted street. How hard could that be?

When he caught sight of the midnight crowds he cursed again. The bastard would lead them straight into the people and attempt to lose him there.

They had told Wolff that he was goo; he just didn't expect Gibson to be that good. He had stopped the bullet even though he had never known Wolff was there. Why had he saved the woman? He shouldn't have even cared. He should have used her as a way to get away.

Wolff had expected Gibson to use the split second it would have taken her to fall to get away. Who cares if she lived or died? She would have just been collateral damage. It had thrown him when Gibson deflected the bullet and pulled her with him. She would slow him down. He wouldn't be able to get away as easily as if he had just run by himself.

Stupid man. Maybe he wasn't as good as everyone said he was.

Wolff followed them into the crowd, watching their heads bob through the people. And then he blinked and they were gone. Wolff stopped mid run. He turned different directions, gazing all ways, looking for any way that they could have gone.

He saw the alley. His first instinct was to check there. Then the three similar places between similar buildings caught his attention. "Shit."

There was no way he would be able to check all of them. In the time it would take him to check one, they could be gone from another. "Fuck."

This should not have been this difficult.

* * *

Why was he doing this? All he was doing was making his life that much more difficult. He should have left the woman where she fell. Hell, he should have just left her on the sidewalk. If she was able to survive the gunman's bullets then kudos for her. God, what was he doing?

The door in front of him opened slowly. Lucien stood there, dressed impeccably in a pressed suit despite the late hour. A smile lit his face when he first saw Wesley standing there. It slightly faded as he saw the unconscious woman in his arms.

"I'd say you are always welcome here Wesley," he began, "but you do have your own apartment for things like this."

Wesley scowled. "It's not what you think. She's an FBI agent."

Lucien didn't move. "And what are you doing with an FBI agent?"

"She was chasing me," Wesley said. "Listen, I'll tell you everything, just let me in. I've been carrying her for blocks."

Lucien stared at him for a moment, and then his gaze flickered down to the woman. Finally he sighed. He stepped aside, opening the door wider for Wesley to step through.

"Thank you."

Lucien shut the door and turned as Wesley deposited the knocked out agent on the couch. "This had best be a good story, Wesley. For you to bring her here. . ."

"She chased me, Lucien. I couldn't shake her. She was like a fucking blood hound."

"So you decided to take pity on the poor FBI agent that you knocked out?"

Wesley stood up straight, stretching his back. "She slipped on something in the alley. Someone shot at her," he glanced down at her again and then looked up at Lucien.

Lucien's eyebrows furrowed. "Someone as in Fraternity?"

"Near as I can tell."

"And why would they do that?"

Wesley paused, staring down at her again. "I don't know. But she sure as hell knew me."

* * *

Evie's eyes shot open. She was disoriented at first, her head pounding, unsure where she was. It took her a few moments to realize she was in her bed, on top of the covers. It only took her a few more seconds to realize she wasn't alone in the room. She stayed still, careful not to make any movements to let her visitor know she was awake.

Her gun lay on the nightstand next to her; easy reach. All she had to do was reach over. . .

"Do you really think that I would have left your gun next to you without coming prepared myself?" The man said, his voice carrying in the silent room. He was older, perhaps late forties, a slight accent layering his words.

Even though the words were a threat, she heard no gun cocking to prove his point. Evie sat up slowly, propping her hands on the bed behind her. The gun was still in easy reach. From the streetlight filtering through her bedroom window, she thought she saw a grin flicker across his face.

"Who are you?"

"I don't think that really matters, Agent Thomas. I come with a warning."

Evie's eyebrows rose. "A warning?"

He shrugged slightly. "More like a suggestion, really."

"And what would that be, Mr.-?"

The man smiled at her bait. "To watch yourself. Wesley Gibson is not the man you are looking for. You should leave him be."

_There's nothing like someone telling you not to look into someone to make you want to look into them. _"And why would I do that?"

"For your own protection, of course. I would not want a beautiful woman like you getting injured."

"Don't give me that bullshit. He's involved in these murders. He _is _my case." She paused as a thought struck her. "You know where he is, don't you?"

His smile came back. It was almost as if he pitied her. "As I have said before, Agent Thomas, he is not the man that you are looking for."

"Then who is? And how the hell do you know my name?"

"The answer to your second question is the easiest. Your name is on your badge. And on your driver's license in your wallet. We needed to know where you lived."

"Why?"

He seemed almost shocked at the question. "To make sure you made it home, of course. Would you have rather been left in the alley?"

Evie stared at him. Somehow he managed to sit just inside the shadows. She could make out little of his features. A strong jaw, a medium sized face. When he flashed it, his smile was nice. "If you say Wesley Gibson is not the man I'm looking for, then who is?" she asked again.

He was silent. He didn't want to answer her. One way or another, Evie was going to get something out of him.

"You should drop the case, Agent Thomas. They are not for you to be trifling with."

"They?" Evie asked. "Who 'they'?" Silence again. The light from the window glinted in his eyes.

He got up without answering her, the shadows still miraculously covering his face. "Goodnight, Agent Thomas."

He was at her bedroom door when she called, "Wait. They? Do you mean the Fraternity?"

If she had been anybody else she probably would not have noticed the imperceptible tensing of his back. His hand, hovering over the door handle, paused. He knew something. He knew something he wasn't telling her.

He turned to her slightly. "What do you know of the Fraternity?"

* * *

"Where the hell is Thomas?"

Matt jerked in his seat. _Crap._ "I don't know sir. I haven't seen her since last night."

"She's your partner, Simonson. You're supposed to keep track of her."

"I'm very sorry sir," _You jackass. _"I'll call her right now."

"No need. I'm here. Sorry I'm late."

"You better have a good excuse for this Thomas."

"Just slept in, sir."

"Really?" he asked, his eyebrows rising. "Then let's start with you. Where are you on the Carlisle case?"

Evie sat in the chair next to Matt, setting her briefcase down next to her chair. "We're still running some leads. We have a hunch that it is somehow connected to the murder of Andre Hicks as well. Both killings occurred when there was no possible way they could have happened. The video from Mrs. Carlisle's basement showed the bullet curving around the door," she showed this with her hands, curving one hand around the other.

"And you've reopened the Mill case?"

Matt nodded. "We have reason to believe that the murderer of the Mill victims is the same as these."

"Anything else?"

"We're not sure. We're still checking in to some clues."

"Right. This isn't going to become another cold case of yours, Thomas. I want the killer found soon," he turned his attention away from her. "Now. Abrams. Where are you with the Hacker case?"

Evie took this opportunity to lean in to Matt and whisper, "I found him."

* * *

**AN:** Okay, so I told myself that I would have this up before my birthday, and lo and behold I did with days to spare! I know it's been awhile. I swear I've had this chapter open on my computer for the past month staring at it. I've played with it a couple times, so I hope that you like how it turned out. It's a little shorter than the last chapter, but much longer than any chapter I've been able to write lately.

I didn't want to leave off with too much of a cliff hanger, so I hope that you like where it ended.


	7. One Step Closer

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Chapter Six: One Step Closer**

"_Why are you here?"_

"_Why do you have no desire to be normal?" the question was answered with a resounding crunch as the fist connected with his face. His head jerked sideways. He spit blood from his mouth, the taste of iron coursing over his tongue._

"_Why are you here?"_

_His eyes shot up to theirs, bright blue shining in the dim light, staring up at shadowy faces._

"_I thought I didn't know who I was."_

Wesley woke to the feeling that he was being stared at. He kept his eyes closed, kept his body as still as possible, tried to keep his breathing slow and even.

"We need to talk."

Wesley sighed. He considered ignoring him. He considered burrowing back under the covers and going back to sleep. It was Saturday damn it. His cracked open his eyes to stare at the glowing clock. And it was three a.m.

"What do you want Lucien?"

"The FBI agent is in over her head," Lucien replied from his place in the shadows.

Wesley rolled over and sat up in bed, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face. "Is this what you woke me up for? To tell me that some FBI agent that tried to kick my ass is in over her head?"

Lucien cocked his head to one side slightly. "What are you going to do about her?"

"What do you mean?"

It was Lucien's turn to sigh. "She knows who you are Wesley. If she were to actually arrest you it would put a damper on our plans. All the Fraternity needs is to get you in a holding cell. You would be dead before morning."

"She doesn't know anything."

"She knows your face and name."

"I've fallen off the radar-"

"We found you," Lucien interrupted.

Wesley glared at him. "You were Fraternity trained."

"It doesn't matter, Wesley. She has all the resources of the American government. It is only a matter of time before she finds you. What will you do then?"

Wesley contemplated his answer. "I'll figure it out when I get to it."

Lucien was silent. Wesley knew Lucien was watching him, judging him, perhaps even regretting the decision to bring him into their plan to take down the Fraternity.

"You are just like your father," he finally replied. "Thinking no one can touch you. Where did that get him Wesley?"

Wesley was across the room before he realized it. Lucien's back slammed into the wall, his head jerking back as Wesley's arm pressed against his throat. Lucien's calm expression never wavered. He showed no sign of distress, no sign of fear.

"Do _not _talk about my father." Wesley seethed through clenched teeth.

"Temper, temper, Wesley. Your anger will cloud your judgment."

The next thing Wesley knew, he was sprawled on his back across the floor, his chest throbbing. Lucien hadn't moved. He still stared at him from across the room, his arms still crossed over his chest, resting against the wall that he had just been pressed into.

He lifted a hand into the moonlight, staring at his nails as if he were bored with the conversation. "Don't you see, Wesley? You are not as infallible as you think," Lucien said, almost as if he were bored with the conversation. "You still allow your emotions to think for you, despite what you may think. You may hate the Fraternity for what they made you do, but they did not make you as much of a monster as you think."

Lucien walked toward the still sprawled out Wesley, stopping just at his feet. "The agent knows about the Fraternity. If she learns any more she could get in our way. Do something about her or I will do something for you."

Wesley glared up at Lucien. "What do you expect me to do?"

Lucien pursed his lips and shrugged. "You'll figure it out when you get to it, I'm sure," he replied, throwing Wesley's own words back at him.

Before he could blink the room was empty.

* * *

No one saw it coming. The blood was in the water before anyone noticed the woman falling to the side. The screaming started soon after the body sank into the water. Long blonde hair fanned out around an upturned face, blood quickly seeping out from a wound in her forehead, mixing with the chlorine and water. The lifeguards blew their whistles, signaling for everyone to leave the water.

The ripples caused by the frightened swimmers spread the blood through the pool, caused the now limp body to bob in the water. Terrified children clung to their parents, panicked adults made frantic calls for help. Life guards dove into the water, swimming as fast as they could to the unmoving woman.

Lifeless eyes stare up at a burning sun.

* * *

The punching bag swung from the force of her punch. She was angry, pissed off even. Nothing more had come from her search for the Fraternity. Or her search for Wesley Gibson, for that matter. And it was pissing her off. After the mysterious man had left her apartment two nights before she had done nothing but search for any clue to this secret society. At least that's what she guessed it was.

Two people had now mentioned the Fraternity to her. From what Matt had told her, Mouse had looked terrified when he mentioned the Fraternity and the man from the other night had hesitated when she mentioned them. He had known something. He had known something and yet told her nothing.

The only thing Evie had to go on was that the man had warned her to stay away from Wesley Gibson and had flinched at the name of the Fraternity. That could only mean one of two things. Wesley Gibson and the man were in league together with these murders or else they were both part of the Fraternity, whatever that was.

Her shin connected with the bag as she kicked up. God damn it. Could nothing go right with this case? Music pounded in her ears from her headphones. Her punches and kicks began to be timed with the music. Evie could feel her mood darken as her thoughts kept going over the case. Her boss was riding her to get answers and yet she could get nothing. Why would she ever have thought that this was going to be easy?

A noise behind her startled her. She pushed off the bag, thrusting backwards. She pivoted on one foot, stopping directly in front of the person that had attempted to sneak up on her, her fist raised.

Zack stared at her, wide eyed, his hands upraised in a symbol of peace. "Whoa. Take it easy Agent Thomas. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Evie dropped her arms, her breathing labored. She blew hair out of her eyes as she pulled the earphones from her ears. "Sorry."

Zack shrugged. He pulled the strap of his computer case higher on his shoulder. "S'okay. I have something you might want to see though."

Evie sighed and ran a hand through her sweat soaked hair. "You couldn't have just called me?"

Zack peered up at her from over his glasses. "I did. When you check your phone you'll notice at least four calls from me. One of the other agents said you were down here."

Evie grabbed a towel from the bench and sat down, wiping the sweat from her chest and neck. "What do you have for me?"

He sat next to her, pulling his laptop from the case. Zack opened some reports, pulling two up on the screen. Evie recognized the pictures as the two victims from the week before.

"What am I looking at Zack?"

Zack gestured at the screen, pointing at two transactions. "What we're looking at, Agent Thomas, are two withdrawals, one from each of the victims, to the same company. Both are high dollar amounts. Going back, I noticed the same amount pulled from the two accounts every month for at least a year."

Evie paused, the towel clutched in her hand. "What company?"

"Not entirely sure. The bank statements say Weavers' International. And before you ask, yes, I looked it up. There's nothing anywhere about this company." Zack paused. "Anywhere."

Her eyes narrowed. "So you're telling me that both of our victims were paying a company that doesn't exist?"

"Near as I can tell." He replied, nodding.

Evie blew a wet strand out of her eyes again. "So we're no closer to finding a killer then we were before."

"Well, no, but at least now we've found a connection between the two."

"Good job," Evie said as she stood. "See if you can find out anything, and I mean anything, about this imaginary company. Find out if it's a dummy company for something else. They have to have been paying someone for something. We've got to figure this out; we've got to figure out what exactly they were paying off."

The door slamming open pulled Evie's attention away from the computer. Matt stuck his head in. "Evie! We have another one."

* * *

Wesley stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the tall building, the sunlight glinting off of the mirrored windows. Wesley squinted behind his sunglasses at the people walking past. He was standing nonchalantly; his hands resting in his pockets, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, the top button of his shirt was unbuttoned.

It was six o'clock on a Friday evening and the sidewalks were crowded. And yet he was invisible. The crowds flowed around him, spreading out to walk around him, their shoulders coming within inches of him. Not one person seemed to take notice of him. He was like a shadow on the wall.

The sunlight moving across an opening door drew his eyes in front of him. A man exited the building first, holding the door for the woman who walked out next. The man made a mock bow to her, to which she did nothing but scowl. Wesley could, however, see the amusement hidden underneath the scowl. He chuckled to himself. She was interesting, this FBI agent. She put on a tough front; a front that would intimidate most people. He was sure it worked on her suspects, on the people she was questioning.

Wesley watched her for a moment. Watched how her hair swayed in the knot at the nape of her neck. He was pretty sure she'd had it styled like that when he first saw her. Wesley felt the hair on the back of his neck rise seconds before an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"What are you waiting for?" Adam asked, his gaze following Wesley's. "Oh. Never mind. I see. So who is she?"

Wesley shrugged. "Couldn't tell you."

Adam chuckled. "Whatever. Come on. Let's go. I hear drinks calling my name!"

* * *

"Witnesses say that the victim was just taken down. One minute she was playing with her son, the next she was face down in the water," the officer paused as he glanced out into the now empty pool. "Figuratively speaking."

"No shooter?" Evie asked.

The officer shrugged. "Not that anyone saw."

"Awesome," Matt muttered. He was staring into the pool, the blood having all but dispersed through the water. He turned his attention to the tarp covered body lying next to the pool. He knelt next to her and lifted the cloth.

Golden hair shone in the dying light. Well, what wasn't matted down with blood. A single bullet hole nestled into her temple, the wound still fresh. Her brown eyes stared up at him. Stared at him as if it was his fault that she was laying there; that it was his fault that they hadn't caught the bastard doing this. _I'm sorry._

"Do we have an ID on her?" he asked.

He heard papers ruffling behind him. "Pool attendant pulled the locker key from her chair. Said she came here every week when the weather's good. Name is Meredith Ventura."

Matt's eyebrows furrowed. "Why do I know that name?"

"Meredith Ventura, aged thirty-two, mother to Brian Ventura, wife of Alexander Ventura."

Matt turned to him, dropping the tarp. "Owner of Ventura Motors?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you." He turned back to the body. "What would you be doing in a public pool?" he asked.

Matt walked up to Evie. She was standing poolside, staring down into the rolling water. "Have forensics found the bullet?"

She shook her head. "Not so far. They're going to empty the filter. Hopefully it's in there."

"Tell me how this makes sense," Matt started. "We have the owner of a clothing store, an office worker, and the wife of the owner of a car dealership. What do any of these people have in common?"

Evie flipped open her phone, hit a button and placed the phone next to her ear. "Hey, Zack. Listen, do me a favor. Pull the financials for a Meredith Ventura." She paused. "Yes. _That_ Meredith Ventura. Pull her financials and see if that same company pops up. Okay. Thanks."

"Care to share?"

Evie turned from him, making her way past the yellow tape blocking off the crime scene. "Zack found a common name in each of the victims' records. It's a company that doesn't seem to exist and yet each of the victims paid the same amount every month for the past year or so." She paused again. "Something doesn't add up, Matt. I have a feeling this is all tied into that company. I'm going to find Mouse, see if he can enlighten me a little more on this Fraternity."

Matt nodded. "I'll stay here to do some interviews. Someone has to have seen something."

* * *

The night had started out great. He was out with Adam getting some much needed beers after another long, boring day at the office. There were girls; always girls. No man in his right mind would turn down a woman that was coming on to him.

The night had been going great and then _he _came along. And now here he was, being slammed into a brick wall, the breath whooshing from his lungs. He ducked as the kick swung over his head but failed to dodge the fist that slammed into his right temple that followed seconds later.

The bass from the bar thrummed against his back, causing his entire body to vibrate. His heart began to beat in time to the vibrations. Wesley used the hum to clear his mind. His eyes snapped open as the man's fist flew at him again.

Wesley dodged right as the fist neared his face. The hand slammed into the brick wall, causing a satisfying crack to sound through the alley. The man grunted, refusing to allow a cry of pain to escape his lips. That would show a weakness that he couldn't allow.

Wesley ducked behind him and grabbed the man's arm, pulling it straight out. He thrust his palm into the man's elbow, effectively breaking the joint and then kicked him in the back. The assassin stumbled forward and turned around, catching his footing. Wesley took the opportunity and launched himself after the would-be killer.

Wesley punched and kicked, aiming for any place the man left open for attack. He landed one last kick to the man's side before he heard the familiar click of a switchblade and then the sting as the blade bit through the skin of his chest right below his ribs.

Wesley grabbed his attacker's good wrist and pulled it away from him. The blade flicked away from him, little droplets of Wesley's blood spattering across the concrete.

Wesley twisted the man's arm in, pushing the blade toward his attacker. He felt the knife sink into the man's chest, felt the blade bury itself into the thick flesh. The assassin's eyes bulged as he fell to his knees.

"Who sent you?"

The assassin's eyes turned up to meet Wesley's. He sneered and spat at him, the fluid coming out red. Wesley stared down at the stain on his shirt. Damn it. He loved that shirt.

"Tell me who and maybe I'll call some help for you."

The sneer didn't leave the man's face. He yanked the knife from his chest and sung at Wesley again. Wesley ducked and slid behind him. Grabbing the would-be assailant's neck, he twisted.

It still bothered him. The sound of the cartilage and bone in the neck snapping; the sound of one more person's life slipping away. "You made me this way," he whispered as the body sank to the ground. "This is all because of you."

"What the fuck."

Wesley twisted at the voice. Adam stood behind him, half of his body hidden behind a slowly closing door.

"Adam-"

Adam turned before Wesley could finish. He was down the alley before Wesley could even move.

* * *

**AN: **Tadaa! An update! God it has been forever. I've had this chapter finished for awhile, it just needed to get edited, but I got a little bit distracted. Work sucks and with it being retail during the holidays, I don't get much time to even sleep. This is my first day off in almost two weeks.

But I really wanted to get this out to you guys today as a holiday gift to you. Thank you for being so patient with my late updates. I'll respond to reviews in a couple hours!


	8. 99 Problems

Updated 11/2/11 due to author confusing a characters name.

Every Day is Exactly the Same

**Chapter Seven: 99 Problems**

Wesley ran down the crowded street, the wound on his abdomen all but forgotten. He had to catch up to Adam. He knew better than to go out; he knew better than to break from his routine. He should never have allowed himself to go out into the open again. They were learning his habits.

He had to figure out what he was going to do. If Adam were to find someone, _tell_ someone what he saw, it would be bad. Wesley had no idea what would happen to him if what Adam had seen was let out.

Let alone what the Fraternity would do to him if they found out he knew. Or if they found out Adam knew Wesley.

"God dammit!"

* * *

She hated this club. The crowd of people. The flashing lights that annoyed her eyes. The vast amount of smoke in the club that caused her to cough if she took too deep a breath. She ran her fingers through her short hair, pulling the strands away from her face. She searched the mass of dancing people. He was supposed to be here. Somewhere where they wouldn't be seen; where no one would care what they were doing.

A man pushing through the dancers caught her attention. He was frantic. Her head cocked to the side. He was frightened. He was running from something or, perhaps, someone. She allowed herself a second to muse about what he could be running from. She shook her head after a moment. It didn't matter. What mattered now was finishing what they were sent here to do.

A man so drunk he could barely stand up straight sidled up next to her. He leered at her, his slurred words barely registering in her mind. She never even turned his way. The man slurred an expletive after awhile and turned away, ambling after some other unfortunate target.

God she hated this club.

* * *

Evie pushed through the hordes of people. The bouncer out front had told her (after some, _ahem_, coercion) that Mouse had come in earlier but hadn't left yet.

Rob Zombie blared over the speakers. The neon lights flashed to the beat of the music. Evie stumbled slightly as a girl backed into her. She put her hand out, bracing it against the girl's back and muttered an apology that she knew the girl couldn't hear. The girl turned, an angry look on her face, ready to say something until her eyes caught the badge at Evie's waist. The corner of her mouth curled in a sneer and she turned away.

Evie just shook her head and continued to the back of the club. Mouse was here. She just had to find him. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. On reflex Evie reached for a gun that wasn't there. A voice shouted in her ear.

"Are you a cop?"

* * *

Adam moved through the crowded club. He slammed into junkies, bumped into club goers and beer holders. Maybe he would get lucky and meet up with some form of law enforcement. He almost snorted at the thought. He could never be that lucky. But someone had to listen to him. Someone had to believe him.

His panicked gaze saw her in front of him; the flash of metal at her waist caught his attention, pulling his body toward her. He watched as she made her way through the crowd, smoothly dodging between people. He watched as a girl slammed into her shoulder and then turned to start a fight. The badge at the woman's waist stopped her. The woman started walking again, moving inch by inch away from him.

She was walking away! His heart started to pound harder than he thought possible. He had to stop her. He had to get to her before she moved away! He bolted to her side, ignoring the angry shouts from people he ran into. Adam grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. The woman turned sharply with her hand hovering at her waist.

"Are you a cop?" he shouted over the music.

She hesitated, her eyes narrowing. After a moment the woman lifted the badge from her hip. "FBI!"

Adam felt relief wash through him. "Thank God! I need your help! I saw my friend- at least I thought he was my friend. I don't know now. After what I saw-"

She put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. Just tell me what you saw."

"I saw my friend kill someone. H-he disappeared from the bar and when I went looking for him he was fighting some guy in the alley. When I went out he jus- he just snapped the guys neck like it was nothing."

She stared at him, her eyes flicking over his face, trying to decide if he was lying. She turned from him, her hand still on his shoulder, her head turning from side to side. She jerked her head to the left. "Come with me!" she shouted and began to lead him along the edge of the crowd.

She turned to him when they entered an empty bathroom, her eyes narrowed. "Where did this happen?"

"At Rowdy's. It's a couple-"

"I know where it is."

He looked panicked, his eyes darting back and forth in the empty stalls. "I swear I'm not making this up."

"What's this friend's name?"

"Wesley," he started, his voice almost a whisper. "Wesley Gibson."

* * *

Evie stared at the man, a look of stunned wonder crossing her face. He had to be joking. It couldn't be this easy. He had to be talking about someone else with the same name. "Are you serious?"

"Why would I lie?"

She snorted. "You'd be surprised. Where did you meet him?"

"At Rowdy's."

She shook her head. "No. I mean where did you first meet Gibson?"

"I-uh, we work together. I've known him for a couple months. He never really hung out with all of us; stuck to himself mostly. I just thought he was a quiet guy. I didn't think he was capable of doing something like that."

"You'd be surprised what people can do with adrenaline rushing through them," she said. Images of the Mill pushed into her thoughts. "Where is he now?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I ran after he killed him. I didn't know what he would do to me. I didn't want to risk it. I-I thought he would kill me if I stayed around."

Evie nodded. Perfectly logical. She'd seen the aftermath of what he could allegedly do. Evie touched his arm, hoping it would give him some form of comfort. "What's your name?"

"Adam Meyers."

"Evie Thomas."

Adam gave a small smile. "I wasn't sure anyone would believe me but I had to tell someone. I came in here to. . . I don't know. I just didn't feel safe on the street alone."

Evie nodded. "Probably the wisest thing you could have done. Listen. Come to the office with me. I'll get a statement from you and send someone out to check out that alley. You'll be safe. I promise."

Adam opened his mouth to reply when the door swung open. Evie glanced over his shoulder. A man stood in the doorway, the flashing lights from the dance floor framing his large figure.

"I'm sorry; could you give us a minute? We'll be out shortly."

The man didn't reply. He stepped in the door, allowing it to swing shut behind him. His dark shirt highlighted the muscles hidden beneath it. The muscles on his arms rippled as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He moved a step closer, his eyes staring hard at her.

"Listen, sir-"

He launched himself at her before she could finish her sentence, pushing Adam into the wall, tile cracking at the impact.

* * *

Wolff had followed the woman after he caught sight of her in the streets. She was the same goddamn woman that had gotten in his way a few weeks before. Gibson should have been dead by now. He should have been dead. No one was this hard to kill.

He slipped in the club, blending in with the crowds, his eyes never leaving sight of the black haired woman. The knife in his boot was a familiar pressure against his ankle. Maybe he would use it later. He didn't think the woman would go down easy. He actually rather hoped she wouldn't. Maybe he could have a bit of fun before getting rid of her.

This was not what Wolff was sent to do. He had been sent to get rid of Gibson. But after the other night when Gibson had protected this woman he didn't know, after allowing her to see what he was able to do, Wolff knew she couldn't stay alive.

After he had lost them in the crowd he figured Gibson had gotten rid of her. He figured maybe the former Fraternity member had used his skills, had remembered what he had been trained for, and taken care of the bitch. Until he saw her tonight that is.

Gibson was slipping. He should never have saved her. He should never have allowed her to live after that night.

Wolff cursed under his breath as a man grabbed the woman's arm and stopped her in her tracks. He yelled something in her ear. His body was tense. Wolff could see him shaking even as far away as he was. "Fuck," he muttered when he saw her lift the badge from her hip. Fucking law enforcement. Nothing could ever be easy.

He followed them to the bathroom and waited just outside. Their voices were muffled through the door. He almost couldn't hear what they were saying. Two words stuck out though; two words that would have been heard if he was a mile away. Wesley Gibson. "Fuck."

Wolff pushed open the door. Her gaze shot up to his, looking him up and down; evaluating if he was a problem. "I'm sorry; could you give us a minute? We'll be out shortly."

He stepped in, ignoring her question. The breeze from the door closing hit his back as he let it shut behind him. He clenched his fists. Maybe he could get information from her. Maybe he could find out what exactly she wanted with Gibson. Maybe he would just kill her and move on.

They hadn't told him to do anything about her. Of course he hadn't actually informed them of her existence. What would one little side killing matter?

Wolff's eyes flicked for a second to the man standing with her. His eyes were wide. He was too scared to cause any form of problem for him.

"Listen, sir-"

He launched himself at the woman, pushing the man out of the way before he could move. Wolff caught her by surprise as he slammed her against the hard tile. He stared into her eyes and saw the moment her instincts kicked in. Her right arm came up, the fist connecting with his jaw. She struck with her left, connecting just below his ribcage. Her foot kicked out in a sweep as she attempted to knock him from his feet.

Wolff's arm moved from across her shoulders to grab a fistful of her jacket. He twisted and pulled her with him, slamming her against the far wall. The sink against the wall bit into the small of her back. The palm of his hand pressed against her face as he pushed her into the mirror. The mirror cracked from the pressure.

"Get," she muttered against his palm, "off!"

Her knee connected with Wolff's groin. The shock of pain caused him to step back, his hand falling from her face. She pushed past him and ran to the other man's side. "Get up. You need to go," she pulled a phone from her pocket and slipped it into his hand. "Get out of the club and call the first number. Tell him where you are."

"But-"

She pushed against his back. "Go!"

The man scrambled to his feet just as Wolff grabbed her by the back of her jacket and threw her against the wall. He was on her a second later with his fingers tightening around her throat.

* * *

Wesley ran into someone as they ran out of a club. He spared one look at them and then stopped in his tracks. "Adam."

Adam looked up at his name. "Son of a bitch." He started to turn but Wesley stopped him.

"Adam stop. I'm not going to hurt you." And now he was starting to sound like a goddamn movie.

Adam held up his hand as if he thought it would be able to stop Wesley from touching him. "Stay away from me. You killed him," he took a step back as Wesley took a step closer. "Stay away from me."

"You don't underst-"

Adam shook his head, his eyes growing distant. "No. Just stay away from me. She needs help. She told me to get help."

Wesley's brow furrowed. He reached out and grabbed Adam by the shoulders, startling him. He looked back up at him. "What do you mean?"

Adam held up a shaking hand with a cell phone. "She told me to call the first number. She's an FBI agent and she's in trouble."

Wesley inhaled through his teeth. Shit. God this woman popped up everywhere. "Where is she?"

* * *

His grip suffocated her, his fingers bent into claws, his thumb pushing into her skin cutting off her oxygen. Evie struggled against him, her kicks having no effect on him. Her lungs burned from the lack of air.

Her vision had started to go black when she felt his grip loosen. The fingers fell from her throat. Evie dropped to her knees. She looked up in time to see the man who had attacked them get kicked in the face. The man grunted as he shot to the side, his torso twisting.

Wesley stood over her, his shirt un-tucked, a section torn. There was a bloodstain around the rip. The attacker almost fell but righted himself before he hit the ground. From the way his left arm was hanging at his side, Evie could tell it was broken. He spit blood on the floor, the look on his face twisting into one of anger.

"What the fu-"

Wesley's foot slammed into the man's gut. He doubled over in time for the tip of Wesley's boot to connect with his forehead. He shot upright from the force of the blow. He stood still for a moment, a dazed look on his face, before he toppled backward.

Evie climbed to her feet. Wesley turned to her, his face drawn. Her eyes scanned his face, taking in the battered expression, the look of utter exhaustion hovering in his eyes.

Before she could move, before Evie could blink, Wesley collapsed. She knelt on instinct, bracing his limp body against her own. Wesley's head hit her shoulder as his arms fell loosely around hers.

She struggled against his dead weight. The door flew open, drawing Evie's eyes up. Adam stood in the doorway, his eyes wide. "What happened in here?" he asked, his eyes gazing around the room.

Scrungy tile was scattered across the floor. Blood spattered the walls in different locations. A mirror lay shattered in a cracked sink.

"Adam," she bit out. "Give me my phone."

Adam turned to her, a horrified look crossing his face when he took her in. "What happen-"

"If you say to my face I swear to God I will punch you. Give me my phone."

Adam fumbled in his pocket. He placed the phone in her hand and helped her to stand up, propping Wesley between them. Evie dialed. "Daniel? I need you to meet me at my apartment. I have some people I need you to check out," she paused. "No, I can't take them to the hospital. Just meet me at my apartment. We'll be there soon."

She hung up and started walking, attempting to take the weight of the man in between them.

* * *

"He should be in a hospital, Evangeline, not chained up like an animal in your bedroom!"

Evie shook her head quickly, wincing as the bruises on her neck twisted. "There was nowhere else to take him, Daniel. You were the only one I could trust. If I took him to a hospital I would have to file a report and have him under police protection. I need him. I have a feeling that I can get more out of him if he's here then if he's sitting in a cell down at the police department. He can heal here. He doesn't need to be anywhere else but here."

"So what is he? A prisoner?"

Evie peered through the crack in the door. "No. Well, a suspect technically. He's wanted for several murders."

"And what kind of murder are we talking about?"

Evie scratched the bandages around her throat. "Does it really matter? He destroyed dozens of lives when he blew up the Mill and everyone that was in it."

"It still doesn't give you a right to have him handcuffed to your bed. You can't keep this to yourself. This is not how you do things!"

"I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not sure you do, Evangeline. You lose yourself in your cases. You never know when to stop," Carter held up his hand to stop her from cutting in. "You focus on one thing and never let it go. While that makes you a good agent, it also puts your and other people's lives at risk. You're like a pit bull; you never drop what you get your teeth into," He paused. "You get that from your father."

Evie's gaze shot up to meet his. "Don't."

Carter placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What would your father do if he saw you do this? What do you think he would say?"

Evie bit her lip. She was afraid if she didn't she would say something she would regret. "I'll take him in when I get what I need," she turned to Adam who sat fidgeting on her couch. "What about him?"

Carter looked down at her for a moment. She was avoiding what he wanted to talk about. "He'll be fine. He just has a bump on his head. Compared to how you look it could have been worse."

"I guess we can't all be so lucky."

"Evangeline-"

"Thank you for coming by, Daniel."

Carter drew up straight. He nodded once, a tight, curt nod, and turned from Evie. He pulled on his jacket and opened the door. Before he left he looked at her over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself Evangeline."

Evie jerked her head in acknowledgment. She stood for a moment, staring at the closed door. She shook her head, wincing as pain lanced through her skull. Finally turning away she made a detour to the kitchen and then moved to the living room. She sat down on the couch next to Adam and held out the ice pack she had picked up.

Adam took it, muttering thanks.

"Are you all right?" she asked, placing her own ice pack on her cheek.

Adam shrugged. "Fine, just. . . stunned I guess."

Evie leaned back on the couch and put her feet on the table. "That's understandable. You've been through a lot tonight."

His eyes flicked to the bedroom door. "What about him?"

"We'll see. I need to talk to him for now. If what you told me is true-"

"It is. Everything I told you is true."

"I'm sure it is," she looked at him, assessed him. "And I'll talk to you about it in the morning. You need to rest. Sleep on the couch. I'll take the chair in my room." She patted his shoulder and stood. "I'll bring you a blanket."

"Thank you."

She gave a small smile. After giving him the blanket she made her way to her room. Evie sat in the oversized chair, pulling her legs up to her chest. She watched Wesley for awhile, her eyes taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest. Several scars littered his chest. She wondered for a moment what happened to him; where he went when he disappeared for six weeks.

Before she realized it, her eyes had closed. She fell asleep thinking about what could have happened to him to make him the way he was.

* * *

A noise startled Evie awake around midnight. Her head shot up, her eyes meeting ice blue. His eyes were wary, calculating. His eyes took in everything she was with just one glance at her curled up form.

Evie unfolded from the chair and stood, stretching her arms above her head. She yawned. "So you're awake," she stated.

"So are you."

Wesley heard her shoulders pop as she moved her arms to curve above her head. He watched as the tank top she wore slid up an inch on her stomach. She pulled at the bandage on her throat. He could see the bruises on her neck in the lamplight. He pushed himself up, ignoring the pain that ripped through his side. She nodded at the wound.

"You're bleeding again."

Wesley let out a harsh bark of laughter, remembering all of the wounds he had received while training with the Fraternity. "Somehow I think I'll survive."

"If you promise to not try anything I'll change your bandage."

"Yeah, sure," he replied, twisting his wrist slowly in the handcuff.

"If you try something I swear to God I will-"

"What? Arrest me again? Because that is what I am, right? You're prisoner?"

"You are not my prisoner," she responded, bending down to retrieve the bundle of bandages and gauze from the floor. "I just want to ask you some questions."

Wesley's gaze flicked up to his arm. "Hence the hand cuffs."

Evie shrugged. "You would try to bolt," she stated. "I couldn't take that risk."

He stayed silent as she stepped closer. Evie watched him for any sign of movement, any sign that he was going to try and attack. She rested on the side of the bed, hesitantly reaching over to pull off the bandage. She used an alcohol swab to clean the outside of the wound.

Evie tenderly held the gauze to his skin and tore the tape from the roll with her teeth. She was so focused on taping the wound that she almost didn't feel the shift in the bed as he kicked his leg up. She reacted on reflex, turning slightly and allowing her back to take the brunt of the blow. Her hand shot to his leg and pushed it down. She shifted and threw her leg over him.

Wesley swung with his free hand but Evie blocked it, twisting her hand around his wrist. She pressed his wrist into the headboard, her legs on both sides of his torso. "I thought we talked about this."

Wesley didn't respond. He kicked up, wrapping his legs around her neck. He pulled down, yanking Evie off balance. Her grip on his wrist fell away. Wesley twisted and bucked his hips, throwing her off of him. With a yelp she hit the floor.

Wesley pulled on the cuff. The metal gave with a snap and he was on his feet before Evie even blinked. She twisted on the floor and shot her arm out. Wesley stumbled as her hand wrapped around his ankle. Evie pushed to her knees as he tried to kick free and lunged forward.

Wesley slammed into the door when her body hit him, the wood shaking on impact. He jerked his head back as he felt her press into his back. She let loose a curse when the back of his head hit her forehead. He kicked his foot back, tripping her. Evie reached out as she fell, catching him by the arm.

They landed as one; Evie's back hitting the floor with a thump, Wesley landing on top of her. Their eyes locked for a second in shock. Her expression calmed and she kicked up. Her knee hit him in the side. Wesley winced at the pain as her knee hit his wound.

Evie took advantage of his flinch. She pushed up, gripped his shoulders and flipped them over. He brought his hand up to her chin, pushing her head up, his fingers gripping her cheeks. She punched him once on the cheek.

Neither one heard the door open. The sound of a gun cocking preceded a smooth voice. "I told you that you should have taken care of her, Wesley."

* * *

**AN:**I am so sorry that it has been so long since I updated. I think it's almost been a year. I don't know what happened so I don't know what to say. I suck. That's all there is to it. And hopefully some of you stuck around to find out what happens next.

I'm not too sure about this chapter but I hope you guys like it. Something just didn't sit right but I've been poring over it for months now and couldn't figure out what else needed to be changed.


	9. The Silence in Between

Every Day is Exactly the Same

Thank you very much to xDollface (sorry. They won't let me put the spaces in your name) for helping me out with more of the plot for EDiEtS. I couldn't have done it without you! I know it took longer than I expected to get this out, but at least it did!

**Chapter Eight: The Silence in Between**

"Wolff has been useless to us. And everyone we have sent after him has come back dead or too injured to continue. This is going to you now. Don't fail me."

"Of course," she paused. "There are rumors that he has help."

He scoffed. "Take them out if they get in the way. He's your priority."

"Yes sir."

"Remember what he's done. Everyone we lost was because of him. If he is not taken care of quickly we will only lose more."

"He'll be taken care of."

He nodded but said nothing. His silence meant the end of their conversation.

* * *

Matt pounded on Evie's door. It was well past noon and he hadn't seen or heard from her since the night before. Not since they'd parted ways by the pool. He waited a moment again before taking up his knocking.

"Come _on_, Evie," he muttered. "Answer your fucking door!"

He stepped back, worry inching its way into his mind. It never took this long to get Evie to the door. Matt stood up straight and lifted his arms, running his fingers along the top of the door frame. She had no welcome mat outside of her door to hind a key under or a plant. Wow he had to get this woman out more.

Matt dropped his arms, defeated. Nothing. At least she was smart enough to not put an extra key in the one place a thief would look. There were times like this that he wished she trusted him enough to give him an extra key to her apartment.

He dropped his shoulder and moved back. This was going to hurt but he had to get into her apartment; he had to make sure she was okay.

"Can I help you?"

Matt looked up at the man standing down the hall from him, a tool box in his right hand. A pair of overalls hung low on his hips. A relieved smile crossed Matt's lips. "Yeah, thanks," he took a breath before continuing. "Listen, my name is Matt Simonson. I'm Evangeline Thomas' partner. She was supposed to meet me today-"

"Ms. Thomas doesn't have a partner," the old man interrupted.

Matt stopped, confused. "What?" he shook his head as realization struck him. "No, not _that_ kind of partner," he pulled the badge from his hip and held it out for the man to see. "I'm her partner from work. Listen, I haven't heard from her since last night and she isn't answering her phone or door today. Can you unlock the door so I can make sure she's okay?"

"Haven't seen her since last night either," the man responded as he ambled slowly to the door, fiddling with the key chain on his belt. "Not since she brought that unconscious man in."

Matt's eyes flew to the door. "What man?"

"Don't know. She and some other feller were carrying him in. I had a leak emergency in the place down the hall and saw them taking him in. Didn't see anyone come out after that but I wasn't up here long."

Matt stepped up to the door and pounded on it again, suddenly more worried than he was before. Evie had said she was going to find Mouse. Could Mouse have been the other man? But what about the one that had been unconscious? What did they have to do with Evie not responding to him?

"Just settle down, sir. I'll get you in."

Matt bit his tongue. The man didn't seem to understand the urgency of the situation. Evie could be dead in there and he wanted to take his time to get in.

"I'm supposed to actually call the landlord in this type of situation but seeing as you're law and all I guess it'll be okay." He found the key he was looking for and placed it in the lock.

The super had barely turned it before Matt had the door open. "Evie?"

The apartment wasn't in a mess. Nothing seemed out of order. Nothing was knocked over. Matt walked through the entry way and looked around the corner into the kitchen. A bag of melted ice sat on the counter, resting on top of a spread out towel. He moved on. A blanket and pillow were resting haphazardly on the couch, a corner of the blanket tossed over the top. His heart skipped a beat as he turned his gaze to the half open door leading to Evie's room. A pale hand was tucked against the door jamb.

"Shit."

Matt was at the door before he even realized it, his shoulder bumping the door the rest of the way open. Evie was on her side, her head on top of her outstretched arm. A trail of blood had trickled from a wound on her forehead.

"Fuck."

"Everything okay?"

Matt pulled Evie gently away from the wall, placing her on her back and checked for a pulse with shaking fingers. "Shit. Call an ambulance."

"What?" the super walked in closer. His eyes widened. His hands reached for his pocket and pulled out a phone.

The super's voice droned on in the background as Matt hovered over Evie's prone form. Her pulse was light but steady. She was alive at least. But she wouldn't wake up. His heart still pounded in his chest. The only thing he could do was keep his fingers on her pulse. His mind wouldn't comprehend anything else.

Matt couldn't think of what had happened. His eyes wouldn't look away from her to look around the room. He didn't think of the knocked over bowl of bloody water next to the bed or the bandages that were on the night table. Or even the little spatters of blood on the carpet. He just had to keep his fingers on the pulse to make sure she was still alive. Nothing in the world mattered at that moment except for her pulse.

As long as she was okay everything else would be fine.

* * *

"I don't know how you expect me to do this. I don't know how _you_ could ever do this. My world is completely fucked up." Adam said, his voice a hushed whisper. They were back at work like it was a normal day; like the night before hadn't even happened. Wesley was treating the events of the night before as if they were nothing. He didn't seem bothered by the fact that they left a woman unconscious and bleeding on her bedroom floor.

Wesley shrugged. "You get used to it."

"But you shouldn't _have_ to. _I_ shouldn't _have _to get used to the fact that a guy I work with, a guy I considered my friend, kills people."

"Killed," Wesley corrected. "It's not something I do any more."

"So last night was just, what? A relapse?"

"I already told you. It was self defense. He tried to kill me first."

Adam snorted. "So if he jumped off a bridge you'd do it too?"

Wesley ran a hand down his face, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. "It's not like that Adam. It was a reflex. What would you do if someone pulled a knife on you?"

"I'd run the other fucking way! You're crazy if you think I would knowingly run into a fight like that."

"And there was a time I was exactly like you. I didn't have the balls to even confront my cheating girlfriend. As sick as it sounds, the Fraternity were the ones who actually helped me grow a spine. They made me realize I wasn't just some poor asshole who got the short end of the stick." He stretched his arms over his head, popping his back in the process. "I went from panic attacks to having incredible abilities that I couldn't even dream of."

Adam looked over at him, his fingers poised over his keyboard. "You sound like you miss it."

Wesley jerked in his seat. Did he? Did he really miss getting his ass kicked every day for 'training'? Did he really miss having countless injuries from the countless fights? Or the feeling of his strength growing every day to the point where he felt more powerful, almost invincible? Granted, it was the only time that he ever felt needed; that he was part of something.

That he was home.

Wesley ran a hand through his hair. "It's not that I miss it," he finally replied. "They trained me; made me stronger. But they're also the ones who made me kill my father. I've tried to put that life behind me. They're the ones that keep dragging me back in."

Adam watched Wesley as he spoke. He looked nostalgic at first, almost as if he really did miss that life. He had never seen Wesley show so many emotions in just a few seconds. The pride as he spoke of growing stronger and then the bitterness as he recounted their betrayal. The excitement at finding his father and then the sadness at losing him again.

Wesley was a complicated man, that much he could tell.

"Good God what happened to you?"

Wesley and Adam both looked up. Ashley stood in front of them, a manila folder tucked in her arm. Neither one of them had really thought about the bruises on Wesley's face.

"Oh, um, we went to a club last night," Adam replied, not _technically _lying. "Wesley got really drunk and ran into a wall." Again. Not technically lying.

One of Ashley's eyebrows rose. "Ran into a wall."

Wesley gave a tight smile. "Yeah, well. There could have been a couple punches thrown. Maybe I did something without realizing it and someone tried to kill me over it."

Adam's eyes widened slightly. He swallowed. What was Wesley doing? Why was he telling her that?

Ashley stared at them for a moment, her mouth slightly open. After a horrifying few seconds, a smile pushed its way across Ashley's lips and a laugh burst from her mouth.

"Oh Wesley, you're so funny!" she responded, pushing playfully on his shoulder. "Like our little Wesley could ever fight someone. I'd believe the wall story over that any day!"

She walked off, still laughing. Adam stared after her and then looked back at Wesley. "What just happened?"

Wesley shrugged. "People believe what they want to believe," he stood up and pushed his chair in. "Come on. Let's go get something to eat."

* * *

"Did you find it?"

"Yes, sir. It was in the library, just like you said."

Lucien nodded and took the folder from Ravena. He perused its contents and nodded again. This would do nicely. She needed to see it. This would change everything. Perhaps it would finally convince her.

* * *

Her throat felt scratchy as she spoke. "I can't believe you called Daniel."

"What the hell else was I supposed to do? You were unconscious on the floor of your room. The only thing I knew about you was that you had a pulse. And technically, I called an ambulance, they called Daniel."

Evie played with the bandage on her arm holding the IV in and stared at the unadorned wall next to her. She hated hospitals. She hated the smell of them; the sterile feeling of every hallway and room. She hated the way the doctors and nurses stared at you as if you were dying and gave fake smiles as if that was all it took to make you feel better.

Matt fidgeted next to the door. He tugged on the sleeves he had rolled up at some point during the ambulance ride. Evie could still see him shaking slightly. She remembered the feeling. She remembered the first glimpse she had of her partner lying on his stomach, his lifeless eyes staring off into something she couldn't see. That burst of adrenaline that poured through her system as she beat down the panic that wanted to overtake her.

"I'm sorry."

Matt didn't look at her. He kept his eyes on the wall above her head. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I know," she responded. "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you clue me in on anything you were doing last night? What did you get in to? I had to explain to the paramedics that, no, you weren't a professional fighter," he took a deep breath. "Evie, you've been in more fights in the last week than out of all the time I've known you."

"I'm sorry."

Matt finally turned his attention from the light above her. "You're _sorry_? That's all you can say? I'm worried about you; worried _sick_. Ever since we've taken this case you've been different."

"I don't know what you mean."

Matt straightened. "Bullshit. If you don't want to tell me what's going on then fine, but don't lie to me."

Evie's fist clenched, the skin near the IV twinging. She opened her mouth but shut it again. He was her partner. She didn't want to lie to him but she had to. He wouldn't believe it even if she told him.

_It's nothing personal Ms. Thomas. I just can't afford for you to be a liability any longer._

Evie opened her mouth again. "Matt. I can't-"

The door swung open, Daniel walking in with a clipboard in his hand. He gazed between Matt and Evie. Matt turned to him and Evie saw his mouth open slightly. "Oh man," he said to her. "I am so sorry."

Evie's eyebrows furrowed and she winced at the movement. "For wh-?"

"Evangeline. Oh thank God."

A rail thin woman made her way into the little room. She perched on the bed, the mattress hardly moving at her weight. A cold hand slid into Evie's and squeezed it gently.

Evie's eyes moved to Daniel's accusingly. "You called my _mother_?!"

"She had to know."

"Don't get mad at Daniel, Evangeline," her mother reprimanded. "He did the right thing by letting me know. You're in the hospital. You're injured. What person in their right mind wouldn't call their mother?"

Evie could almost see her mother puffing up in worried anger. She had never been bigger than she was now. For as long as Evie could remember her mother had always been stick thin, a gene Evie had not inherited. She took after her father; a slim build that hid the solid muscle underneath. It was a runner's build.

Evie gazed pleadingly at Matt for help. He tried to hide a grin by scratching his nose. She glared at him.

"Do you think you gentleman could give us a minute?"

"Of course, Clara. Come Mr. Simonson. I think there is still someone waiting for you to fill out forms."

Matt swiped his hand over his face, a look of exhaustion crossing it. "Awesome. Can't wait," he looked pointedly at Evie. "I'll talk to you in a bit."

Evie offered a tight smile in return. "Mom-"

Clara threw her arms around Evie's shoulders. She took a deep, shuddering breath and buried her face against Evie's neck. "How could you do this to me again? As if once wasn't enough. As if I didn't already lose your father and almost lose you before. I don't think I could bear it."

Evie stilled. She wasn't sure how to respond. Her mother had always been overly emotional. After her father's death Clara had done nothing but cry for weeks, understandable under the circumstances. Evie had caught her staring at her sadly every now and then, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She had randomly pulled her into hugs, never saying anything, just holding her against her body, although Evie had always been able to feel the way her body shook as she cried silently.

Evie wrapped her arm around her mother's shoulders. She tilted her head against her mother's. She didn't know what to say. "Mom," she started but stopped as a jolt of pain went through her throat. Clara cupped her cheek and gave a watery smile.

"It's okay, Squish."

Evie smiled at her childhood nickname. It was something her mother had started when she was a child. Clara always told her that she was her little Squish, that her chubby cheeks were the favorite part of Evie. She used to always squeeze them between her fingers, just a two fingered pinch as she passed her by. It had always caused a wide grin to cross her face.

It wasn't something that had occurred often since her father's death.

Clara pinched her cheek and pulled back. "I'm sorry I was so brash. I was worried. Daniel called and all I could do was remember the last time, the one time, I got a call from them."

Evie nodded in understanding. "Dad."

Clara's eyebrows drew together. Her fingers wrapped around Evie's. "No, sweetie. It was for you."

It was Evie's turn to look confused. "What are you talking about?"

Clara squeezed Evie's hand. "I keep forgetting you don't remember. Evie, I-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt. Evangeline, I want to keep you here overnight for observation. It doesn't look to be anything too serious, but with the amount of contusions and the injury on your head I'd rather be safe about it. If all goes well you'll be able to go home in the morning. Clara, can I speak to you for a moment?"

Clara placed a kiss on Evie's forehead, careful of the bandages, and turned away. Evie watched her mother speak to Daniel from the picture window leading to the hallway. Her mother sent little glances at her, each one looking more distressed.

Matt walked in front of the window with his phone pressed to his ear. He lifted his arm to knock until he saw her looking at him.

"Yes, sir. Of course. I'll get right on that."

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose as he hung up.

Evie scratched at the bruises on her throat. "What is it?"

"Forensics went over your place. Besides the numerous fingerprints that don't seem to belong to anyone, there's the tipped over bowl of bloody water to figure out," he paused, slouching down in the chair next to the bed. "It'd be easier if you just told me what happened."

"I went to look for Mouse. I was told he'd be at Club 9. I went in but couldn't find him. A gentleman came up to me, telling me he had witnessed a murder. We went into the men's restroom where he proceeded to tell me what he knew. We were attacked by another man and I fought him off."

Matt stared at her. "And that's it," he stated.

"That's it."

Matt pursed his lips and nodded slightly. "What about the man that was handcuffed to your bed?"

"What-"

"Don't lie to me," he hissed, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees. "Daniel told me what happened last night. He told me that you called him to check out some man that was injured. That you weren't going to bring him in. What are we going to find when we test that blood?"

Evie's chin lifted. She looked in Matt's eyes; saw the anger mixed with concern. She didn't want to hurt him but she didn't want to risk his life either.

A voice came uninvited to her mind. _The more you find out the more complicated all of this becomes._

"I found Wesley Gibson." She said quietly.

"What?"

"Technically he found me. The man, Adam Meyers, witnessed Gibson killing another man. He was running from him when he ran in to me at Club 9."

Matt took a deep breath. "Was Gibson the one who attacked you?"

"No. A different man did that. I sent Adam to call you. I guess he ran into Gibson when he went outside. The next thing I know Gibson is taking the other guy out. And before you ask, no, I don't know what happened to him. I called Daniel and left."

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose again. "You do realize the position you're in? You should have called this in last night. The local PD should have at least been brought in. Gibson should not have been taken to your apartment!"

"What was I supposed to do Matt?" Evie snapped. "I needed answers. Gibson is the only clue I have for the Mill. He was there. I had to get answers before I turned him in."

"You _had _to? You couldn't have interrogated him like any normal suspect? You should have brought him in. You should have at least called me. We could have figured something out."

"I wasn't going to drag you in to it. If the department found out, I'd be the only one to get in trouble. I didn't want to pull you down too."

"And how did that work out for you?"

Evie's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Did you get your answers, Evie? Where's Gibson now? I would assume you know since you had all of this handled."

"Gibson escaped when I was trying to change his bandages. He got the better of me. If Adam wasn't there when you found me then he took him." It wasn't technically a lie. Evie just didn't feel it was necessary to tell Matt about the other visitors. He wasn't going to be able to find out anything about them. They didn't exist.

"And how do you know they weren't in it together?"

"You didn't see him, Matt. Adam was scared out of his mind. He was in shock when I got him to my apartment. I was going to bring them both in this morning."

"What else do you know about him?"

"He works with Gibson. He said he witnessed him killing the man outside Rowdy's."

"Where did he say they worked?"

Evie shook her head. "We didn't get that far in the conversation."

Matt sighed. "I'll call it in about Rowdy's. Maybe get a car over to check out the alley, see what they can find," he stood, brushing invisible dust from his pants. "I've got to get into the office so I'll see you later. Let me know when they're releasing you."

"Matt-"

He lifted his hand and waved over his shoulder but didn't turn back. He left, taking a moment to speak to Clara and Daniel and then was gone from Evie's sight. He didn't even look back at her before he left.

* * *

"This is Agent Matt Simonson. I need you to send a squad car to Rowdy's on Fifty Fourth Street. Check the alley behind the bar. There was a possible homicide. Yeah, no. It was an anonymous tip. Yes. Let me know what you find."

Matt took a deep breath and rested his head against the headrest. He closed his eyes. He was still parked in the hospital parking garage. The darkness fit his mood. Plus he didn't feel like actually going to office quite yet. He needed a few moments to think.

He didn't want to handle this today. It was too much. He had always known Evie was headstrong; that she did what she wanted. People turned a blind eye to it as long as she produced results. But after this? He wasn't so sure it was going to be that simple.

Evie'd had the suspect and then lost him. The only other lead they'd had against him had been lost as well. She was slipping. She was falling further and further into this case and not paying attention to anything else that was going on around her. And that had almost cost her her life. Matt was afraid she would topple over the edge if she went on like this much longer.

His phone chirped. He brought it to his ear without opening his eyes. "Simonson."

"Hey, lover."

A smile crept over his lips. No matter his mood, the sound of her voice would always have that reaction. "Hey."

"You sound terrible. You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Matt wiped his hand down his face. "It's been a long day."

"I'm sorry," her voice turned coy. "I know something that can make it better."

"And what is that?"

Caroline laughed. "You'll have to come home to find out."

Matt chuckled as well. "You have no idea how good that sounds right now, but I can't. I have to get back to the office. Rain check?"

"Of course. Just don't keep me waiting. I miss you."

"Miss you too. I'll be home later."

"Oh, hey. We should invite Evie over for dinner tomorrow. It's been a while since she's been over."

Matt hesitated, the smile falling from his lips. "Yeah. I'll do that."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah. Really. I'm fine. I'll see you when I get home."

Caroline sighed. "Okay. I'll see you then. Just . . . just be careful okay?"

"I always am."

"And tell Evie 'hi' for me."

"I will."

Matt sighed as he hung up. He may as well get to the office. He couldn't do anything until the local PD called him back. He started the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot. May as well get the rest of his day started.

* * *

"You look well, Ms. Thomas."

Evie stirred at the cultured voice. "It's so good of you to care." She muttered sleepily.

She could hear the smirk is his voice as he slipped into the chair next to her. "Of course. Was the visit with your mother satisfying?"

Evie slowly turned over toward him. She pushed up to lean against the pillows. "Is there something you need, Mr. Caius?"

His mouth turned up in a one sided smile. He placed a manila folder on the edge of the tray table and scooted it toward her. "I simply wanted to give you this."

Evie's fingers curled away from the file. She eyed it with mild curiosity. "Why should I take anything from you?"

"Because it is something that you will find most interesting, Ms. Thomas," his head tilted slightly in the dim light. "And because it pertains to you."

Evie's finger touched just the corner of the file. "What do you mean?"

Lucien idly crossed his legs. "You will have to read it, Ms. Thomas."

Her eyes narrowed at him. The man had tried to kill her just a day before. Hell, he'd probably still try when given the chance. He wasn't someone that she trusted. She couldn't possibly guess what could be in the folder.

"Why are you here?"

"I thought we covered that already."

"You tried to kill me."

"I did and I stand by my reasoning. You're getting yourself too involved in matters that don't concern you. You are endangering yourself and everyone you care about."

"Don't give me that bullshit."

"As eloquent as ever Ms. Thomas."

Evie gave him a sarcastic smile and pulled the file closer. She flipped it open, aware of Lucien watching her from the corner of her eye. Her eyebrows furrowed as she began scanning the pages. Evie felt her heart begin to pound as she read further.

"This can't be right."

* * *

AN: I, in no way, feel the way Evie does about hospitals or their staff. I've been hospitalized before and the nurses are nothing if not the nicest people I have ever met. Just thought I would put that out there.

I also felt that it was about time we met her mother. She was just a blurb of a mention in an earlier chapter but I didn't want to leave her as that. She will be semi-important in Evie finding out a lot of stuff she doesn't know.

I hope you all enjoyed!


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